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WAR  STORIES  AND  SCHOOL-DAY 
INCIDENTS  FOR  THE  CHILDREN 


m 
tu 


WAR  STORIES 

AND    SCHOOL-DAY    INCIDENTS 
FOR  THE  CHILDREN 


BY 

B.  M.  ZETTLER 

COMPANY   B,     EIGHTH    GEORGIA    REGIMENT,    ANDERSON'S     BRIG- 
ADE, LONGSTREET'S  CORPS,   ARMY  OF  NORTHERN  VIRGINIA 
FORMERLY    SUPERINTENDENT   MACON    (GA. ) 
PUBLIC    SCHOOLS 


L 


NEW  YORK 

THE  NEALE  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

1912 


Copyright,  1912,  by 
The  Neale  Publishing  Company 


A  WHY  OR  TWO 

The  appearance  of  these  war  stories  in 
book  form  is  due  largely  to  the  interest  mani- 
fested in  them  by  two  of  my  most  efficient 
and  helpful  colaborers  during  my  superin- 
tendency  of  the  Macon  public  schools,  Mrs. 
A.  E.  Keenan,  Principal  of  Second  Street 
School,  and  Miss  Clara  I.  Smith,  Principal 
of  Nisbet  School. 

These  teachers  constantly  insisted  that  my 
talks  to  their  classes  on  history,  which  usually 
included  an  incident  from  my  personal  expe- 
rience in  the  Confederate  Army,  were  help- 
ful to  them  in  teaching  United  States  history. 
If  the  stories  contributed  to  the  splendid  work 
they  did  in  history  with  the  classes  that  suc- 
cessively came  under  them  from  year  to  year, 
they  must  have  merit  and  ought  to  be  pre- 
served. 

Also,  the  children  of  all  ages,  with  the 
"grown  ups"  as  well,  like  the  way  I  tell  the 
stories,  and  I  think  they  will  want  my  book. 

The  Author. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hil 


http://archive.org/details/warstoriesschoolzett 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  I 

LIFE    ON     THE    FARM 

Location  of  Farm — The  County-Seat  Acad- 
emy— Advantage  for  hunting  and  fish- 
ing— Other  attractions  for  a  boy — How 
I  learned  to  work — Public  Speaking 
and  Politics — ''Fist  and  skull"  fighting 
— Ideas    about   Abolition    Party  ...     15 

CHAPTER  II 

SCHOOL    DAYS 

First  impressions — Teachers  of  Ante-bellum 
days — Methods  in  teaching  and  gov- 
erning— Home  lessons — Confidence  and 
wholesome  fear  as  educational  factors — 
Essentials  of  a  good  school     ....     23 

CHAPTER  III 

COLLEGE    DAYS 

Entering  college  at  Newberry,  S.  C. — Ex- 
citement following  Lincoln's  election — 


CONTENTS 


Capture  and  Trial  of  Supposed  Aboli- 
tion Emissaries — Secession  of  South 
Carolina — Fort  Sumter  Excitement — 
Political  questions  in  the  Literary  De- 
bating Societies — Georgia  secedes  and 
the  Georgia  students  all  leave  for  home 
— My  college  chums — Tribute  to  Jake 
Elmore 32 

CHAPTER  IV 

PREPARING  FOR   WAR 

Drilling  the  militia — Confederate  States 
Government  organized — Peace  Confer- 
ence called  by  Virginia — "Star  of  the 
West"  comes  to  relieve  Sumter  and  is 
driven  back — Lincoln  is  inaugurated — 
What  he  said  in  his  inaugural  address 
— Lincoln  gets  a  fleet  ready  and  it  starts 
for  Charleston — Beauregard  demands 
surrender  or  neutrality  of  Major  Ander- 
son commanding  Fort  Sumter — The 
Confederates  bombard  the  Fort  and 
Anderson  surrenders — Lincoln  calls  on 
the  States  for  75,000  volunteers — Presi- 
dent Davis  also  calls  for  volunteers — 
Oglethorpe  Light  Infantry  of  Savannah 


CONTENTS 


accepted  and  ordered  to  Virginia — Join- 
ing the  company  and  starting  for  Vir- 
ginia      39 

CHAPTER  V 

OFF    FOR    THE    FRONT 

At  Richmond — Regiment  organized — Off 
for  the  Potomac — Arrival  at  Harper's 
Ferry — Bathing  in  the  Potomac — John- 
ston's first  retreat — An  incident :  Tak- 
ing the  Union's  man's  honey  and  giving 
it  up — Off  for  Manassas  to  reinforce 
Beauregard — Wading  the  Shenandoah 
at  midnight — Army  invited  to  breakfast 
— Riding  in  or  on  a  box-car — First  sight 
of  Beauregard — Going  to  extreme  right 
where  battle  is  to  commence    ....     47 

CHAPTER  VI 

THE    BATTLE    OF    MANASSAS    OR    BULL    RUN 

Fatherly  talk  of  Bartow  to  his  boys  the 
night  before  the  battle — Disappoint- 
ment, battle  started  by  Federals  against 
our  extreme  left — The  three  mile  run  to 


io  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

get  into  it — Under  fire ;  the  first  cannon 
ball — The  boys  in  the  apple  tree — The 
charge  and  the  pine  sapling  thicket — 
How  one  man  felt  in  the  first  battle — 
Retreating — New  York  Fire  Zouaves — 
Beauregard's  salute,  Gallant  8th — Tide 
turns,  Federals  retreating — Going  back 
to  the  pine  thicket — Impressions  of  kill- 
ing men  to  settle  disputes — The  day 
after  the  battle — Burying  the  dead — A 
man  who  shed  tears  because  he  missed 
the  battle 60 


CHAPTER  VII 

FROM    BULL   RUN   OR   FIRST    MANASSAS   TO    SECOND 
MANASSAS 

Confederate  advance  two  months  after  the 
battle — Picket  duty  in  sight  of  Wash- 
ington— Old  soldier  tricks  on  picket — 
How  men  are  executed  in  the  army — 
Almost  a  ghost  story — Dodging  Scott's 
rear  guard — Ridicule  turned  into  ap- 
plause— An  exciting  little  fight  at  Dam 
No.  1 — In  camp  near  Richmond — "Run- 
ning the  blockade"  into  the  city — Sleep- 
ing on  the  floor   at   Mr.   Yarrington's 


CONTENTS  ii 


instead  of  between  snowy  sheets — Cap- 
tured and  taken  to  the  colonel — Climbing 
trees  to  get  information — A  lucky  drop 
— An  interrupted  poker  game — How 
little  things  affect  big  events :  Three 
men  go  ahead  to  hunt  buttermilk  and 
are  captured  by  Federal  scouts — A  near 
look  at  Lee  and  "Traveller" — Going  on 
the  mountain  to  find  out  who  is  there — 
Fighting  by  "bluffing" — Advantage  and 
disadvantage  of  being  in  front — Getting 
wounded — How  one  may  lose  his  life 
trying  to  save  it — Deserved  rebuke,  "I 
thought,  sir,  prisoners  were  captured 
on  battlefields,  not  in  hospitals" — Dis- 
tressed father  hunting  his  wounded  boy 
— Hauled  forty  miles  to  the  railroad 
station  at  one  dollar  a  mile — Detailed 
account  of  getting  wounded — Wounds 
dressed    six   days    after   battle     ...     75 

CHAPTER  VIII 

CHANGE   OF   SERVICE — GOVERNMENT   TAX 
COLLECTOR 

Sherman  breaks  up  my  job  along  the  Central 
railroad  in  Georgia — Joining  the  cavalry 
— Cornered,  and  a  race  for  life — Hunt- 


i2  CONTENTS 


ing  a  road  to  the  rear  through  Sher- 
man's army — Crossing  the  Savannah — 
On  an  island  in  "Back  River" — Rescued 
by  "Marse"  Winkler's  rice  flat — Cap- 
tured by  South  Carolina  militia  and 
unwittingly  sent  to  our  own  boys 
(like  Brer  Rabbit  in  the  brier  patch 
for  punishment) — Recrossing  Savannah 
River 117 

CHAPTER  IX 

in  rear  of  Sherman's  army 

How  General  Wheeler  fooled  Kilpatrick — 
Appearance  of  things  at  the  old  home 
after  the  "Cyclone"  had  passed — Peter, 
the  negro  house  boy,  showing  the  two 
"gentermen"  the  ford  and  the  path — 
A  wagon  trip  to  Augusta — War  prices 
for  necessaries — The  stampede  and  how 
a  little  riderless  mule  saved  himself — 
Again  keeping  out  of  Sherman's  way — 
Two  days  in  the  enemy's  lines — A  pris- 
oner captured  and  what  to  do  with  him 
— The  faithful  negro,  London — -Thrill- 
ing experience  with  two  dismounted 
cavalrymen 129 


CONTENTS  13 


CHAPTER  X 

AT   THE   MERCY   OF   THE   INVADING  ARMY 

Preparing-  for  the  invading  army — Advance 
reports  of  devastation — Surmises  as  to 
what  will  occur — Planning  to  save  val- 
uables— The  dread  of  facing  strange 
soldiers  who  come  as  enemies — The 
first  arrival :  four  cavalrymen — They 
demand  money  and  firearms — The  in- 
fantry arrive  and  spread  over  the  place 
like  a  swarm  of  grasshoppers — Shoot- 
ing chickens,  pigs,  and  cows — Ran- 
sacking the  house  for  valuables — Some 
gentlemen  among  soldiers,  who  seem  to 
be  ashamed  of  men's  conduct — One 
brings  army  crackers  in  a  quilt — Effect 
of  soldiers'  stories  on  the  negro     .     .     .156 

CHAPTER  XI 

PRISONERS    AT    SHERMAN^    HEADQUARTERS 

Ladies  refugeeing  to  keep  out  of  Sherman's 
way  are  captured  by  cavalry — Train  set 
on  fire — Sherman's  headquarters,  resi- 
dence of  Rev.  Mr.  King — Ladies  held 
there  as  prisoners — They  eat  at  Sher- 


i4  CONTENTS 


man's  table  and  hear  discussions  of  of- 
ficers about  assault  on  Fort  McAllister 
— They  wish  for  wings  to  fly  to  the  Fort 
and  report — When  Fort  is  captured 
they  are  sent  in  army  ambulance  to 
home  at  Guyton 162 

CHAPTER  XII 

CONDENSED    CIVIL    WAR    HISTORY 

Federal  efforts  to  capture  Richmond,  the 
Confederate  capital — Seven  successive 
armies  under  seven  different  generals 
— Each  general  retired  after  defeat 
except  Grant  who  makes  four  deter- 
mined assaults — Grant  orders  exchange 
of  prisoners  stopped  and  begins  siege 
of  Richmond — After  seven  months 
Grant  forces  Lee  to  abandon  the 
city 167 


War  Stories   and  School-Day 
Incidents  for  the  Children 


CHAPTER  I 

LIFE  ON  THE  FARM 


The  home  life  of  a  schoolboy  in  the 
country  covers  so  much  and  has  so  much  to 
do  with  his  "terms"  at  school  it  occurs  to 
me  as  very  appropriate  to  devote  my  first 
chapter  to  an  account  of  my  life  on  the  farm. 

Our  "place,"  as  we  called  it,  was  located 
one  mile  north  of  Springfield,  Ga.,  the  county 
seat  of  Effingham,  and  near  the  road  leading 
from  Springfield  to  Sisters'  Ferry  on  the  Sa- 
vannah River. 

Father  often  spoke  of  it  as  a  poor  place 
for  a  farm.  His  chief  reason  for  remaining 
there,  as  I  have  often  heard  him  say,  was 
because  the  county  academy  was  located  in 
Springfield   and   he   wanted  his   children   to 


16 WAR  STORIES 

have  the  advantage  of  a  good  school.  Then, 
too,  he  was  fond  of  hunting  and  fishing  and 
"The  Runs,"  as  this  portion  of  Ebenezer 
Creek  was  called  by  everybody  in  those  days, 
with  its  hummocks  and  swamps  a  half  mile 
across,  afforded  fine  sport  in  these  lines. 
Deer  and  wild  turkeys  were  quite  plentiful 
and  the  large  number  of  buck  horns  that 
adorned  our  veranda  bore  testimony  to 
father's  success  as  a  hunter. 

FARM  ATTRACTIONS — HUNTING  AND  FISHING 

But  to  me  the  "place"  was  perfect.  The 
swamps  and  fields  teemed  with  small  game 
of  all  kinds — partridges,  doves,  robins,  larks, 
thrashers  and  bullfinches,  squirrels,  raccoons, 
opossoms,  and  rabbits;  and  the  creek  and 
Jack's  Branch  had  every  kind  of  fish  from 
the  trout  or  black  bass  that  would  not  look 
at  any  bait  but  a  silver  fish,  live  and  playful, 
to  the  branch  pike  that  would  snap  up  a  grass- 
hopper as  soon  as  it  touched  the  water.  I 
had,  too,  a  gun,  a  faithful  dog,  and  a  hunting 
companion  in  Zack,  a  negro  about  my  age. 
There  was  an  apple  orchard  with  every  va- 
riety from  the  toothsome  little  "Junes"  to 
the   "Father  Abrahams"   that  hung  on  the 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN  17 

trees  till  October;  a  peach  orchard  with  early 
"free-stones"  and  white  and  yellow  "clings"; 
mulberry  trees,  with  berries  as  long  as  my 
finger;  three  or  four  plum  orchards;  water- 
melons and  muskmelons  in  season  by  the 
wagonload,  and  last,  but  best  of  all,  the  creek 
with  the  big  swimming  hole  was  not  a  half  a 
mile  away — and  I  had  permission  to  go  in 
whenever  I  pleased.  With  all  these,  how 
else  could  I  regard  our  "place"  but  ideal? 
And  it  is  still  the  dearest  spot  on  earth  to 
me.  The  old  dwelling  house  and  its  prede- 
cessor,— that  in  my  day  was  the  "loom 
house," — the  negro  cabins,  the  orchards,  are 
gone;  but  the  creek  and  swimming  hole  are 
there,  and  the  old  fishtrap  site,  and  the  eddies 
where  I  could  always  pull  out  a  "war-mouth" 
perch  any  afternoon.  The  hummocks  where 
I  hunted  squirrels,  and  the  bridge  up  at  the 
road,  are  all  there.  I  visit  them  occasionally 
and  find  myself  repeating  with  Woodworth, 
slightly  changing  his  lines,— 

"How  dear  to  my  heart  are  the  scenes  of  my 

childhood, 
While  gladly,  though  sadly,  I  look  on  them  all." 

Of  course  the  ten  months  of  school  each 
year,  under  a  strict  teacher,  with  perplexing 


1 8  WAR  STORIES 

problems  and  long  memoriter  lessons,  cast  a 
shadow  across  my  happy  life  on  the  farm; 
but  even  these  had  their  compensation  in  base- 
ball or  shinney  at  recess  and  during  the  long 
noon  intermission.  Then,  too,  Saturday 
never  failed  to  arrive  on  time,  bringing  with 
it,  besides  a  hunt  with  Zack  and  Watch  (my 
dog),  mother's  weekly  bake  in  the  brick  oven 
of  light  bread,  pies,  and  syrup  cakes,  a  peck 
of  groundnuts  and  yellow  yams  that,  remain- 
ing all  night  in  the  oven,  shrunk  away  from 
their  jackets  to  half  their  original  size;  and, 
of  course,  a  shoulder  of  pork  or  a  ham  of 
venison  or  a  turkey,  for  Sunday  dinner.  I 
can  see  them  all  with  my  mind's  eye  as  I 
write. 

LEARNING  TO  WORK,  BUT  NOT  ON  A  FARM 

I  was  never  required  to  do  any  work  on 
the  farm  except  of  a  very  light  character, 
such  as  dropping  peas  or  gathering  up  the 
bundles  of  fodder  that  the  hands  tied  up 
hastily  when  the  thunder  cloud  was  approach- 
ing, or  sticking  sweet  potato  vines,  or  pick- 
ing up  apples  for  the  hogs;  and  these  were 
more  a  frolic  than  work  for  me  and  the  half 
dozen  little  negroes  who  constituted  the  "mer- 
gency  gang." 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN  19 

I  was  at  school,  you  know,  for  ten  months 
every  year,  and  my  dear,  sympathetic  mother 
thought  I  ought  not  to  be  required  to  work 
during  my  two  months'  vacation. 

But  there  are  other  ways  than  by  manual 
labor  of  learning  to  work,  and  my  teacher 
gave  me  the  habit.  In  my  next  chapter  I 
shall  have  much  to  say  of  his  methods  to 
this  end. 

POLITICS  AND  PUBLIC  SPEAKING 

Another  advantage  I  enjoyed  by  being  so 
near  the  county  seat  was  that  of  hearing  dis- 
tinguished speakers  and  attending  political 
meetings,  for  nearly  all  the  political  meetings 
were  held  at  the  court  house.  Many  a  point 
of  information  I  picked  up  in  this  way.  It 
was  from  Ben  Hill  and  Joe  Brown  in  their 
race  for  the  Governorship  that  I  got  my  first 
knowledge  about  the  railroad  built  and  owned 
by  the  State,  and  known  as  the  Western  and 
Atlantic  Railroad,  reaching  from  Atlanta, 
Ga.,  to  Chattanooga,  Tenn. 

In  Presidential  elections  I  heard  such  men 
as  William  H.  Styles,  Henry  R.  Jackson,  and 
Frank  Bartow  discuss  the  questions  of  the 
tariff  for  revenue  and  for  protection  of 
American  manufactures,  and  that  other  far- 


20  WAR  STORIES 

reaching  question  of  the  rights  of  slave- 
owners in  the  Territories.  Not  half  of  the 
people  of  Georgia  or  any  other  Southern 
State  were  slave-owners.  In  fact,  Georgia, 
when  it  was  first  settled,  had  an  anti-slave 
law,  and  some  of  the  people  were  still  op- 
posed to  slavery,  though  everybody  admitted 
that  the  slaves  were  property  according  to 
the  laws  of  the  State  and  the  Constitution  of 
the  United  States.  And  being  property,  they 
were  on  a  footing  with  all  other  property, 
and  any  law  that  discriminated  against  this 
property  right  was  regarded  by  everybody 
as  unjust.  The  Abolitionists  of  the  North 
were  getting  anti-slavery  laws  passed  wher- 
ever they  could,  and  so  it  was  natural  that 
the  election  of  Lincoln  by  the  Abolition  Party 
should  be  regarded  in  the  South  as  a  bad 
thing,  not  only  by  those  who  owned  slaves, 
but  by  everybody  else.  Those  who  did  not 
own  slaves  saw  it  was  unjust  to  pass  laws 
that  would  injure  any  man's  property.  More- 
over, the  question  of  doing  away  with  slaves 
in  the  North  had  been  in  every  instance  set- 
tled by  the  States,  each  one  in  its  own  way; 
and  why  should  not  the  people  of  the  South 
be  allowed  to  settle  the  matter  in  the  same 
way,  each  State  for  itself? 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN  21 

HOW  WE   LEARNED   "STATE-RIGHTS" 

The  matter  was  discussed  in  this  manner 
all  over  the  South  from  the  time  the  Aboli- 
tion party  was  first  organized,  and  all  the 
people  became  so  much  interested  in  it  that 
in  those  days  even  the  schoolboys  understood 
what  was  meant  by  the  "Missouri  Compro- 
mise," "The  Fugitive  Slave  Law,"  and  'The 
Dred  Scott  Decision."  Since  I  have  touched 
on  this  matter  here,  I  will  add  an  incident 
concerning  it  occurring  during  the  war.  In 
talking  to  prisoners  that  we  captured  they  all 
claimed  to  be  tired  of  the  war,  and  would 
ask  us  why  we  did  not  quit  fighting  against 
the  Union, — that  is,  the  United  States  Gov- 
ernment. They  would  instantly  get  the  reply, 
"We'll  quit  fighting  just  as  soon  as  you  fel- 
lows go  back  home  and  attend  to  your  own 
business  and  let  us  alone."  The  truth  was, 
the  Southern  people  felt  that  it  was  not  the 
United  States  Government  they  were  fighting, 
but  the  Abolitionists  that  had  gotten  control 
of  it  and  were  doing  unlawful  things.  If  the 
Abolition  party  had  not  been  started  there 
would  have  been  no  Secession  and  no  war; 
and  yet  gradually  slaverv  would  have  disap- 
peared in  the  Southern  States  just  as  it  had 


22  WAR  STORIES  

disappeared  from  the  Northern  States — by 
the  separate  action  of  each  State. 

In  those  days  a  political  gathering  meant 
not  only  public  speaking  by  distinguished 
men,  but  one  or  more  personal  fights.  But 
no  guns  or  pistols  were  used.  The  fights 
were  all  of  the  "rough  and  tumble"  or  "fist 
and  skull"  sort,  with  broken  teeth,  bleeding 
noses,  and  blood-shot  eyes;  and,  to  be  honest, 
I  must  confess  I  enjoyed  these  fights  more 
than  I  did  the  speaking. 

Fighting  is  wrong,  of  course,  and  we  ought 
to  settle  all  our  disputes  in  some  other  way 
than  by  fighting;  but  most  of  us  are  compelled 
to  admit,  if  there  must  be  a  fight,  we  like  to 
see  a  good  one.  Is  not  this  the  main  reason 
why  we  like  to  read  about  Stonewall  Jackson, 
General  Lee,  and  the  Confederate  warship 
Alabama — because  they  did  such  splendid 
fighting? 


CHAPTER  II 

SCHOOL  DAYS 

I  remember  my  first  day  at  school.  I  was 
a  well-grown  eight-year-old  boy  when  I 
"started"  to  school,  but  shy  and  timid. 

Of  this  first  day  I  must  give  a  few  inci- 
dents. To  me  it  was  an  eventful  day.  It 
ought  to  be  such  with  every  child,  and  parents 
and  teachers  should  do  their  part  toward 
making  it  a  day  to  be  remembered. 

Going  to  school  has  come  to  be,  in  a  sense, 
too  common  a  thing.  This  is  perhaps  one 
reason  why  education  is  not  appreciated  as  it 
should  be.  Too  often,  perhaps,  it  is  the  case 
that  going  to  school  means  only  getting  out 
of  the  way  and  off  the  hands  of  an  overtaxed 
mother. 

But  to  my  story:   I  was  taken  to  the  girls' 

room,  for  the  school  was  divided  into  two 

departments,    one    for   the   boys   under    the 

principal,  the  other  for  the  girls  under  his 

23 


24  WAR  STORIES 

assistant.  In  this  instance  the  assistant  was 
the  wife  of  the  principal.  She  gave  me  a 
seat  at  her  left  as  she  faced  the  school  and 
about  the  third  desk  from  the  front. 

She  occupied  a  platform  about  two  feet 
high  and  closed  in  front  and  on  one  side.  The 
side  next  to  me  was  open  and  her  position 
was  reached  by  going  up  small  steps. 

You  see,  I  noticed  things  that  day.  I  said 
it  was  an  eventful  day.  It  was,  and  I  was 
in  a  state  of  mind  to  be  impressed.  I  saw 
things  for  myself  and  I  remembered  them. 

TEACHERS  IN  ANTE-BELLUM  DAYS 

Presently  I  was  called  up  to  be  taught  my 
first  lesson,  A,  B,  C  and  D,  E,  F.  Then  I 
was  told  to  go  to  my  seat  and  say  these  over 
and  over  till  I  could  repeat  them  from  mem- 
ory and  name  each  one  on  sight. 

But  I  soon  got  tired  and,  looking  out  at 
the  shade  trees,  I  began  to  think  of  things  at 
home.  A  tear  probably  gathered  in  my  eye. 
Then  the  teacher  came  down  and  walked  up 
and  down  the  aisles.  She  stopped  at  my 
desk  and,  putting  her  hand  on  my  head,  said, 
"Well,  you  have  been  to  school  one  day.  I 
hope  you  like  it.  Would  you  like  to  go  home 
now?"      "Yes,   ma'am,"    I   said,    of  course. 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN  25 

"Then  you  may  go  and  come  again  to-mor- 
row." My  tears  were  dried,  my  homesick- 
ness was  cured,  and  all  the  way  home  I  kept 
thinking,  "What  a  good  teacher  I  have;  yes, 
I  like  school  and  I'll  go  again  to-morrow." 
Are  you  surprised  that  all  through  the  years 
that  I  have  lived  I  have  held,  as  a  "pleasant 
memory,"  that  "first  day  at  school,"  and 
like  to  talk  about  it  to  the  children? 

"A  word  fitly  spoken  is  like  apples  of  gold 
in  pictures  of  silver."  And  in  my  picture  is 
the  sweet  face  of  that  kind-hearted  lady,  my 
first  teacher,  Mrs.  H.  S.  Hawley. 

I  sometimes  say  that  our  disappointing  and 
disastrous  Civil  War  gave  to  the  youth  of 
the  South  as  a  compensation  for  the  calamity 
of  failure  the  Southern  woman  as  a  teacher. 

As  is  well  known  to  those  of  the  generation 
now  rapidly  passing  off  the  stage,  it  was  a 
rare  thing  to  find  a  Southern  woman  a  teacher 
in  any  school  before  the  Civil  War.  Nearly 
all  the  female  teachers  in  the  South  were 
Northern  ladies.  Not  so,  however,  with 
Mrs.  Hawley;  she  was  a  Georgian  by  birth. 
Her  husband,  H.  S.  Hawley,  was  a  Northern 
man,  a  New  Englander,  I  think.  He  had 
been  principal  of  the  academy  several  years 
before   I   started  to   school,    and   for   seven 


26  WAR  STORIES 

years  out  of  the  nine  that  I  was  at  the  acad- 
emy he  was  my  teacher.  He  was  said  to  be 
one  of  the  best  Latin  and  Greek  scholars  in 
the  State,  and  his  pupils  always  stood  well 
at  the  State  University  and  other  colleges. 

OLD  METHODS  OF  GOVERNING  AND  TEACHING 

I  have  often  entertained  my  children  and 
others  with  his  way  of  doing  things,  both  in 
governing  and  teaching,  and  I  shall  devote  a 
little  space  here  to  a  description  of  some  of 
his  methods. 

First,  his  main  reliance  in  discipline  and 
for  securing  good  lessons  was  the  rod,  which 
with  him  was  a  rule  two  inches  wide  and 
two  feet  long,  or  a  whalebone,  the  bow  of  an 
old-fashioned  umbrella.  He  had  his  own 
method,  too,  of  administering  the  punish- 
ment. Generally  the  culprit  was  required  to 
stretch  himself  across  a  chair  face  downward 
and  hold  fast  to  the  lower  round.  Mr. 
Hawley  stood  in  front  of  and  near  the  chair 
with  one  foot  elevated  on  a  round,  thus  com- 
pletely shutting  off  all  attempts  by  the  boy  to 
rub  the  bruises  or  catch  the  rule  or  whale- 
bone with  his  hand.  The  boys  would  squirm 
and  kick  and  yell,  but,  pinioned  as  they  were, 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  27 

they  were  powerless  to  help  themselves. 
How  I  feared  getting  on  that  chair !  It 
probably  was  due  to  this  that,  during  the 
seven  years  that  I  was  under  Mr.  Hawley, 
it  was  never  my  lot  "to  come  to  the  chair." 
I  probably  was  no  more  disposed  to  prepare 
my  lessons  than  other  boys  of  the  school,  and 
so  my  good  luck,  as  some  of  them  termed  it, 
was  due  solely  to  my  fear  of  Mr.  Hawley. 
I  never  felt  like  taking  any  chances  with  him 
on  lessons  or  behavior. 

I  will  give  a  sample  of  what  frequently 
occurred  in  the  school  in  the  matter  of  pre- 
paring home  lessons. 

A  RECITATION  IN  LATIN 

There  were  four  of  us  in  a  Latin  class. 
Adams'  Latin  Grammar  was  the  text-book.  I 
remember  hearing  Mr.  Hawley  say  of  the 
Latin  grammar:  "It  is  the  first  book  to  take 
up  in  the  study  of  Latin,  and  you  will  never 
know  enough  to  lay  it  aside  as  long  as  you 
study  the  language."  Our  class  had  a  long 
review  lesson  in  the  grammar.  I  was  up  late 
preparing  it.  Mother  spoke  to  me  from  her 
room,  saying,  "Son,  it  is  very  late;  you'd 
better  go  to  bed."     "Let  him  alone,"  said 


28 WAR  STORIES 

father;  "he  and  Mr.  Hawley  understand  each 
other."  And  he  was  certainly  correct  as  to 
my  part  of  the  understanding.  When  Mr. 
Hawley  said  get  a  lesson,  I  understood  he 
meant  just  that — no  less. 

When  I  reached  the  school  grounds  I 
found  John  M.  and  Tom  G.,  two  of  my  class- 
mates, playing  marbles  under  the  "twin  oaks" 
by  the  well.  (These  oaks,  by  the  way,  are 
still  standing,  December,  191 1.)  I  expressed 
surprise  at  their  playing  marbles  when  we 
had  such  a  hard  lesson.  "You  are  afraid 
of  Hawley,"  said  Tom;  "we  are  not."  The 
bell  rang  and  soon  it  came  our  turn  to  come 
to  the  recitation  bench.  "Start  the  lesson, 
John,"  said  Mr.  Hawley,  and  John  started, 
"Nominative  penna,  genitive  penn,  penn, — ■ 

dative,  dative,  dative "     "Come  to  the 

chair,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Hawley,  and  he  stepped 
to  the  corner  of  the  room  and  got  a  whale- 
bone from  the  bunch  leaning  there.  John 
went  down  across  the  chair  and  began  to 
recite  rapidly  and  loud,  but  it  was  not 
"penna."  He  limped  back  to  his  seat  and 
Tom  was  told  to  proceed  with  penna.  Trem- 
bling, stammering,  hesitating,  he  finally 
"stuck"  about  where  John  broke  down,  and 
he  went  to  the  chair;  and  as  the  whalebone 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  29 

whisked  in  the  air  he  yelled  and  wriggled, 
as  he  had  often  done  before,  and  sniffling  re- 
turned to  the  bench.  "You  may  take  it," 
said  Mr.  Hawley,  looking  at  me.  A  rabbit 
with  his  ears  pinned  back  and  his  head 
greased  could  not  have  glided  through  a 
thicket  more  smoothly  than  I  did  with  penna, 
from  nominative  singular  to  ablative  plural. 
Then  I  took  puer  and  do  minus  and  sermo  and 
caput  and  manus  and  dies  and  bonus — a,  urn, 
and  hie,  haec,  hoc,  and  the  synopsis  of  amo, 
active  and  passive,  in  the  first  person,  singu- 
lar, through  from  present  indicative  active  to 
latter  supine.  In  this  way  I  got  all  my  les- 
sons, and  I  sincerely  believe  that  in  doing  so 
I  acquired  a  habit  of  application  and  concen- 
tration of  mind  on  the  work  in  hand  that  was 
helpful  throughout  my  school  and  college 
course,  and  no  doubt  greatly  improved  my 
memory. 

And  let  me  add  that  it  never  occurred  to 
me  to  ask  Mr.  Hawley  why  he  required  me 
to  take  up  any  particular  study;  and  if  I  had 
complained  to  my  father  that  Mr.  Hawley 
was  too  severe,  he  would  probably  have  said, 
"Just  do  what  he  requires  and  you  will  not 
have  any  trouble."  If  I  had  complained  that 
Latin  was   too   hard,   he  would  have   said, 


30 WAR  STORIES 

"That's  between  you  and  Mr.  Hawley;  talk 
to  him  about  it."  How  blest  I  was,  both  in 
father  and  teacher!  Father  had  confidence 
in  my  teacher,  and  I  had  respect  for  him 
amounting  to  wholesome  fear.  I  see  now 
that  this  statement  compasses  the  whole  mat- 
ter of  my  splendid  progress  during  those 
seven  years  under  Mr.  Hawley.  I  was  read- 
ing Caesar  and  about  to  take  up  algebra 
when  he  left  the  school  at  the  close  of  my 
seventh  year. 

CONDITIONS  OF  PROGRESS  AT  SCHOOL 

Let  me  say  here  that  confidence  in  a  teacher 
on  the  part  of  parents  is  essential  for  the  satis- 
factory progress  of  the  child,  and  respect  for 
the  teacher — amounting  to  wholesome  fear, 
if  you  please — on  the  part  of  the  child  is  in 
my  judgment  a  necessary  condition  of  good 
school  training. 

Again,  a  good  teacher  is  the  first  essential 
of  a  good  school.  A  well-adapted  school 
building  is  desirable;  comfortable  seats  and 
desks  are  important;  text-books  are  helpful; 
but  a  good  teacher  standing  under  a  tree  with 
interested  pupils  sitting  on  a  log  constitute  a 
better  school  than  the  best  equipped  building 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN  31 

with  only  a  "hearer  of  lessons"  in  the 
teacher's  chair. 

Mere  text-book  tasks  drop  out  of  mind 
even  before  school  days  are  over,  but  the 
knowledge  that  comes  from  association  with 
a  teacher  who  is  both  well  informed  and  able 
to  impart  information  in  a  way  that  interests 
and  attracts  will  remain  through  life. 

My  teachers  at  the  academy  for  the  next 
two  years  after  Mr.  Hawley  left  were  J.  T. 
Lynn  and  Rev.  William  Epping,  each  one 
year. 

From  Mr.  Epping  I  got  the  suggestion  of 
teaching  all  history  in  school  by  short  lec- 
tures, to  be  reproduced  in  writing  by  the 
pupil.  In  my  judgment  it  is  the  only  kind 
of  history  teaching  in  school  that  is  worth 
anything  from  the  standpoint  of  learning 
history. 


CHAPTER  III 

COLLEGE  DAYS 

In  October,  1859,  I  entered  the  sophomore 
class  of  the  Lutheran  College  in  Newberry, 
South  Carolina,  and  I  was  there  in  December, 
i860,  when  the  State  seceded. 

I  will  give  an  incident  of  those  stirring 
times  with  which  the  older  students  were  con- 
nected. It  will  help,  also,  to  show  how  ex- 
cited the  people  were. 

John  Brown  had  attempted  to  excite  an 
insurrection  among  the  negroes  in  Virginia 
and  had  seized  the  United  States  armory  at 
Harper's  Ferry,  to  furnish  them  with  arms. 
For  this  he  had  been  tried  and  hanged. 

The  Presidential  election  had  just  been 
held,  in  which  Lincoln  the  Abolition  candi- 
date had  been  elected. 

It  was  believed  by  many  people  that  Aboli- 
tion fanatics  like  John  Brown  were  sneaking 
about,  visiting  the  negroes  at  night,  and  or- 
ganizing them  for  a  general  uprising.  In 
32 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  33 

many  places  "vigilance"  committees  were 
organized  to  send  out  scouts  and  "patrols" 
at  night  to  watch  for  these  "emissaries." 

CAPTURE  OF  SUPPOSED  ABOLITION 
EMISSARIES 

One  of  these  committees  was  formed  in 
Newberry,  and  the  college  authorities  were 
requested  to  allow  the  older  students,  who 
desired  to  join  the  committee,  to  do  so. 
Night  patrols  were  organized  and  all  the 
roads  leading  into  the  town  were  picketed. 
One  night  a  report  was  brought  in  that  a 
party  of  Abolition  "emissaries"  had  been 
located,  and  scouts  were  sent  out  to  take 
observations.  About  two  miles  from  town 
on  one  of  the  principal  roads  they  came  upon 
the  camp  of  the  "emissaries,"  consisting  of  a 
two-horse  "Virginia  tobacco  wagon"  and  two 
white  men  who  were  then  sitting  before  a 
bright  log  fire.  The  scouts  concealed  them- 
selves to  watch  for  results. 

Presently  two  negroes  came  down  the 
road  and  turned  in  to  the  comfortable  look- 
ing fire  to  warm  their  shins.  While  they 
were  standing  there  one  of  the  white  men 
went  to  the  wagon,  turned  down  a  keg  and, 
filling  a  cup  with  what  was  supposed  to  be 


34  WAR  STORIES 


whiskey,  returned  to  the  fire.  The  two  white 
men  each  took  a  drink  from  the  cup,  then 
passed  it  to  the  negroes.  This  was  thought 
by  the  scouts  to  be  sufficient  proof  and  they 
rushed  forward  and  arrested  the  bewildered 
wagoners.  They  were  marched  into  town 
and  taken  to  the  hotel  corridor.  Soon  a 
crowd  collected,  and  on  all  sides  could  be 
heard  such  expressions  as  "String  'em  up!" 
"Hang  the  devils!"  "Bring 'em  out!"  "Bring 
'em  out!"  "Give  us  a  chance  at  'em!"  They 
were  kept  under  a  strong  guard  till  morning, 
and  by  eight  o'clock  a  crowd  of  probably  two 
hundred  people  had  gathered  in  front  of  the 
hotel.  It  was  thought  best  by  the  officers  of 
the  committee  to  take  the  prisoners  over  to 
the  court  house  and  give  them  at  least  the 
form  of  a  trial,  and  thither  the  crowd  surged. 
One  of  the  men  was  led  forward  and  was 
told  to  make  a  statement  as  to  who  he  was 
and  what  was  his  mission.  In  a  straightfor- 
ward manner,  but  with  evident  emotion,  he 
stated  that  they  were  tobacco  and  apple  ped- 
dlers from  North  Carolina;  that  they  had 
come  down  to  sell  tobacco  and  apples,  as  they 
were  accustomed  to  do  every  fall;  that  they 
had  gone  into  camp  for  the  night  out  on  the 
road  a  mile  or  two  from  town,  and  while 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN  35 

they  were  eating  their  supper  two  negroes 
came  down  the  road  and  stopped  to  warm 
themselves;  that  while  the  negroes  were  there 
they  drank  some  apple  brandy  and  gave  the 
negroes  what  was  left  in  the  cup.  Then  some 
young  men  ran  up  and  said  they  were  pris- 
oners and  must  go  with  them.  The  other 
man  was  called  on  for  a  statement.  He 
simply  said,  "Pardner's  told  it  all." 

The  chairman  of  the  meeting  asked  if  any- 
one in  the  audience  wished  to  make  a  sugges- 
tion or  offer  any  remarks.  A  young  lawyer 
by  the  name  of  Nance  rose  and  said  that  he 
desired  to  say  a  few  words.  At  once  all  was 
attention.  "These  men,"  he  said,  "are  in 
my  judgment  just  what  they  claim  to  be, 
tobacco  peddlers  from  our  sister  State  of 
North  Carolina."  All  over  the  house  there 
were  voices,  "Down!  down!  no  better  your- 
self!" "Hang 'em  up!"  "Let  us  have 'em !" 
But  Nance  continued  and  made  an  appeal 
that  for  impassioned  earnestness  I  have  never 
heard  equaled.  A  motion  was  made  to  ap- 
point twelve  men  to  consider  the  case  and 
report.  The  twelve  were  named,  and  at  once 
retired.  In  a  few  minutes  they  returned  with 
their  report,  saying  in  substance  that  there 
was   doubt  in  the  case,   and  therefore  they 


36 WAR  STORIES 

recommended  that  the  men  be  discharged  but 
ordered  to  leave  town  at  once.  It  is  need- 
less to  say  that  the  apple  peddlers  stood  not 
upon  the  order  of  their  going,  but  left  at 
once.  Under  ordinary  conditions  no  intelli- 
gent man  who  looked  into  the  faces  of  these 
illiterate  mountaineers  would  have  thought 
for  a  moment  of  charging  them  with  being 
"Yankee  emissaries"  engaged  in  organizing 
the  negroes  into  insurrectionary  bands,  but 
"when  the  mob  rules  reason  is  dumb." 

SOUTH    CAROLINA    SECEDES — MAJOR   ANDER- 
SON GETS  READY  TO  FIGHT 

On  the  twentieth  of  December  the  South 
Carolina  convention  passed  the  Ordinance 
of  Secession.  I  attended  the  ball  given  at 
the  Kinard  Hotel  in  honor  of  the  event.  The 
ladies  all  wore  homespun  dresses. 

Captain  Walker,  of  Newberry,  organized 
a  company  to  go  to  Charleston,  and  a  num- 
ber of  the  students  living  in  Newberry  joined 
it.  Excitement  was  at  fever  heat.  Major 
Anderson,  commander  of  the  forts  in 
Charleston  harbor,  had  refused  to  abandon 
the  forts,  as  he  had  been  requested  to  do 
by  the  Governor  of  South  Carolina,  and  had 
put  all  the   supplies   into   Fort  Sumter,   the 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN  37 

strongest  one  of  the  forts  and  was  prepar- 
ing for  a  fight.  Men  collected  in  groups  and 
discussed  the  situation,  and  at  the  college  the 
liferary  debating  societies  took  it  up  and  had 
warm  debates  over  the  right  and  the  provo- 
cation of  a  State  to  secede.  Little  studying 
could  be  done.  Dr.  Brown,  president  of  the 
theological  department,  who  was  a  Pennsyl- 
vanian,  was  said  to  be  an  Abolitionist  be- 
cause he  employed  white  servants.  He  was 
advised  to  leave,  and  did  so. 

Alabama,  Florida,  and  Mississippi  fol- 
lowed South  Carolina  and  seceded,  and  on 
the  19th  of  January  the  Georgia  convention 
passed  the  Secession  Ordinance.  The  next 
day  all  the  Georgia  boys  took  honorable  dis- 
charges and  left  for  home.  My  classmates 
from  Georgia  at  that  time  were  Tom  Rawls 
and  Jake  Elmore,  both  of  Newnan.  The 
former  was  killed  in  Garnett's  campaign  in 
West  Virginia.  The  latter  served  honorably 
through  the  war  and  became  a  minister  of  the 
Lutheran  Church.  For  many  years,  and  until 
his  death,  he  was  judge  of  the  Court  of  Or- 
dinary of  Macon  County,  Ga.  I  met  him  a 
numBer  of  times  after  the  war  and  greatly 
enjoyed  his  company.  Though  generally  dig- 
nified and  rather  reserved,  he  enjoyed  a  good 


38 WAR  STORIES 

joke  and  was  fond  of  telling  some  of  our 
college  tricks.  He  especially  enjoyed  laugh- 
ing over  one  on  our  room-mates,  Rawls  and 
Hutcheson.  They  were  bedfellows,  but  had 
had  a  falling  out  and  would  not  speak  to 
each  other.  Neither  Jake  nor  I  would  ex- 
change with  them,  and  so  they  continued  to 
sleep  together.  One  morning  our  genial  land- 
lord, Dr.  M.,  on  greeting  us  pleasantly  as 
we  took  our  seats  at  the  breakfast  table,  re- 
marked to  Jake  that  he  seemed  not  to  be  so 
well  as  usual.  "No,  sir,"  said  Jake,  without 
a  smile,  "Rawls  and  Hutcheson  talked  so 
much  all  night  I  couldn't  sleep."  Of  course 
the  good  doctor  appealed  to  them  to  explain. 
They  blushed  and  were  greatly  embarrassed, 
but  Rawls  recovered  and  stated  that  Elmore 
sometimes  talked  in  his  sleep  and  was  prob- 
ably not  yet  fully  awake.  I  was  nearly  burst- 
ing with  suppressed  laughter,  which  Jake's 
nudging  did  not  aid  me  in  holding  down. 
Splendid  fellow  was  Jake  Elmore.  He 
crossed  over  the  river  last  year  (1910),  be- 
loved in  life  by  all  who  knew  him,  and  his 
death  was  regarded  as  a  calamity  by  his 
Church  and  by  the  people  of  Macon  County 
whom  he  had  served  so  long  as  a  faithful 
and  efficient  public  servant. 


CHAPTER  IV 

PREPARING  FOR  WAR 

When  I  reached  home  from  college  I 
found  the  war  spirit  and  excitement  as  high 
in  Springfield  and  throughout  the  county  as 
it  was  in  Newberry.  In  every  district  in 
the  county  the  militia  was  organized  and  hav- 
ing frequent  meetings  for  drill.  I  was  given 
a  first  lieutenant's  place  in  the  Springfield 
district  company  and  got  a  copy  of  "Hardee's 
Tactics"  and  began  to  study  the  manual  of 
arms  and  company  movements. 

But  my  whole  thought  was  on  getting  into 
active  service  by  joining  some  fully  equipped 
company  like  those  in  Savannah.  Every  day 
I  went  over  to  Springfield  to  get  the  news. 
For  a  while  it  looked  as  though  there  would 
be  no  war.  Leading  men  in  Virginia  had 
proposed  a  convention  of  delegates  from  all 
the  States  to  try  to  agree  on  some  plan  by 
which  matters  could  be  reconciled.  In  the 
meantime  the  seven  seceding  States  had  sent 

39 


40 WAR  STORIES 

delegates  to  Montgomery,  Alabama,  to  form 
a  new  government.  The  new  government 
was  called  "The  Confederate  States  of 
America,"  and  Jefferson  Davis  of  Missis- 
sippi was  elected  President  and  Alexander 
H.  Stephens  of  Georgia  Vice-President.  The 
delegates  declared  that  in  forming  a  new 
government  it  was  not  the  purpose  of  the 
Southern  people  to  make  war  on  the  United 
States,  and  they  appointed  a  committee  to 
go  to  Washington  to  arrange  about  Sumter 
and  other  forts  and  property  in  the  seceded 
States  that  were  claimed  by  the  United 
States  Government.  And  so  it  looked  very 
much  as  if  there  would  be  no  war.  I  was 
very  sorry,  for  I  thought  the  Abolitionists  de- 
served to  be  punished  for  their  meddling  in 
our  affairs,  and  I  was  sure  a  battle  would 
teach  them  a  good  lesson  and  "bring  them 
to  their  senses." 

"star  of  the  west" 

But  soon  news  came  that  the  conference 
called  by  Virginia  had  failed  to  agree  on  any 
plan  of  reconciling  matters,  and,  further,  that 
an  attempt  had  been  made  by  President  Buch- 
anan to  reinforce  Sumter  by  sending  a  ship, 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN  41 

The  Star  of  the  West,  loaded  with  troops 
and  supplies,  and  it  had  been  driven  back  by 
the  batteries  in  Charleston  harbor. 

It  had  been  said  that  Lincoln  would  never 
be  permitted  to  take  his  seat,  but  he  slipped 
into  Washington  disguised  and  was  inaugu- 
rated President. 

Of  course  everybody  wanted  to  know  what 
he  would  say  in  his  inaugural  address ;  and 
when  the  news  came  that  he  had  said  he 
would  not  only  hold  Fort  Sumter,  but  would 
retake  all  the  other  forts  that  had  been  taken 
possession  of  by  the  States  that  had  seceded, 
the  war  fever  rose  higher. 

One  day  news  came  that  Beauregard  in 
command  of  the  Southern  forces  at  Charles- 
ton had  learned  that  a  fleet  of  ships  was  on 
the  way  to  reinforce  Fort  Sumter,  and  he 
demanded  of  Major  Anderson  the  surrender 
of  the  fort  or  a  promise  not  to  take  part  in 
a  fight  of  our  batteries  with  the  ships.  It  was 
said  Anderson  had  refused  to  do  either,  and 
Beauregard  was  firing  on  the  fort.  The  next 
day  news  came  that  it  had  been  taken. 

In  a  few  days  Lincoln  called  for  seventy- 
five  thousand  troops  from  the  different  States 
to  invade  the  South  and  compel  the  Southern 
States'to  return  to  the  Union. 


42 WAR  STORIES 

Then  the  report  came  that  President  Davis 
was  calling  for  volunteers  to  be  ready  to  meet 
them.  The  Effingham  Hussars  were  talking 
of  offering  their  services,  and  a  movement 
was  started  in  Guyton — a  small  town  on  the 
railroad  in  the  western  part  of  the  County — 
to  organize  a  company  of  infantry.  But  I 
knew  that  in  Savannah  there  was  a  large 
number  of  well-drilled  military  companies, 
and  I  felt  sure  some  of  these  would  be  the 
first  to  go  "to  the  front";  so  I  told  Major 
Porter  in  command  of  the  militia  to  get  an- 
other lieutenant  for  my  company,  and  not 
to  depend  on  me,  for  I  expected  to  join  the 
first  Savannah  company  that  got  orders  to 
leave. 

Governor  Brown  had  ordered  a  number  of 
companies  from  North  Georgia  to  assemble 
at  Savannah  for  drill  and  to  be  organized 
into  regiments.  I  went  down  to  see  them 
drill.  I  also  visited  Fort  Pulaski  and  saw 
the  big  columbiads  in  position  and  ready  for 
the  Yankee  ships  that  might  attempt  to  come 
up  the  river. 

The  "Georgia  Hussars,"  "The  Guards," 
"The  Blues,"  "The  Oglethorpes,"  "The 
Jasper  Greens,"  and  other  Savannah  com- 
panies were  vying  with  one  another  for  a 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  43 

place  in  the  Confederate  army,  but  it  was 
impossible  to  tell  which  stood  the  best  chance. 
I  returned  home  and  impatiently  waited. 

Next  came  the  news  that  Virginia  had  re- 
fused to  furnish  her  quota  of  troops  called 
for  by  Lincoln,  and  had  seceded. 

JOINS  BARTOW'S  COMPANY 

In  a  few  days  word  came  from  Savannah 
that  Bartow's  company,  the  Oglethorpe  Light 
Infantry,  had  been  ordered  to  report  in  Vir- 
ginia. I  was  over  in  the  village.  I  went 
home  in  a  run  and  announced  the  news,  and 
told  mother  I  could  not  wait  for  dinner;  in 
fact,  I  did  not  want  any;  that  I  was  going  to 
start  at  once  down  the  Middleground  road, 
afoot,  for  Savannah.  She  reminded  me  that 
it  was  twenty-six  miles,  and  that  I  could  not 
possibly  walk  that  distance;  that  I  should 
wait  till  my  father  came  home  and  he  would 
take  me  over  to  Guyton  and  I  could  go  to 
Savannah  on  the  train. 

I  reluctantly  yielded,  and  set  about  getting 
a  few  more  of  my  things  together  that  I 
would  probably  need  in  the  army.  When 
father  came  home  he  convinced  me  of  the 
folly   of  going  on   foot   to   Savannah,    and 


44 WAR  STORIES 

agreed  to  take  me  to  Guyton  for  the  early 
through  train  from  Macon  next  morning, 
which  would  land  me  in  Savannah  before 
eight  o'clock.  I  was  dreadfully  afraid  that 
every  vacancy  in  the  company  would  be  taken 
before  I  could  get  there,  but  to  my  great 
gratification  I  found,  when  I  reached  the 
armory,  that  a  resolution  had  been  passed 
by  the  company  the  night  before  rejecting 
the  married  men,  and  that  there  were  in 
consequence  several  vacancies.  One  of  the 
rejected  married  men  offered  me  his  uniform. 
I  was  accepted  by  the  company  and  ordered 
to  call  on  the  proper  company  officers  for  a 
gun  and  other  equipments. 

Bartow  arrived  from  Montgomery,  and 
the  next  day  we  were  escorted  through  the 
principal  streets  of  the  city  by  the  entire 
military  of  Savannah,  and  somewhere  on  the 
march  we  were  halted  to  receive  the  flag  that 
had  been  made  for  us  by  the  ladies  of  Sa- 
vannah. It  was  on  this  occasion  that  Captain 
Bartow  used  those  memorable  words,  "I  go 
to  illustrate  Georgia."  I  felt  that  he  in- 
cluded me,  and  it  was  the  proudest  day  of  my 
life. 

We  passed  through  Charleston  and  on  to 
Richmond.      At    every    station    there    were 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  45 

crowds  of  people,  among  them  young  ladies 
with  dainty  little  rosettes  that  they  pinned 
on  the  lapels  of  our  coats.  At  first  an  effort 
was  made  by  the  officers  to  keep  the  men  in 
the  cars  when  we  stopped  at  a  station,  but 
at  some  places  the  waits  were  so  long  and, 
from  other  causes,  discipline  relaxed  and  gen- 
erally when  we  reached  a  station  the  boys 
rushed  *out  and  mingled  with  the  people. 

On  the  third  day,  I  think  it  was,  we  ar- 
rived at  Richmond,  and  were  drawn  up  in 
front  of  the  Exchange  Hotel.  A  guard  was 
detailed  to  take  care  of  the  guns,  and  we 
"stacked  arms"  and  went  in  for  a  "square 
meal."  It  was  a  royal  meal,  and  we  were  in 
condition  to  do  it  justice.  Then  we  went  out 
to  Howard's  Grove  and  pitched  tents. 

Every  day  a  new  company  or  two  would 
arrive,  and  finally  after  about  ten  days  the 
regiment  was  formed  and  officers  appointed. 
Bartow,  captain  of  the  Oglethorpe  Light  In- 
fantry, became  colonel;  Montgomery  Gard- 
ner, a  Mexican  War  veteran,  lieutenant-col- 
onel; Thomas  Cooper,  of  the  Atlanta  Grays, 
major;  and  John  Branch,  of  our  company, 
adjutant. 

In  the  afternoons  the  ladies  of  Richmond 
by   hundreds   would  visit  the   camp   to   see 


46 WAR  STORIES 

"dress  parade."  The  Oglethorpes,  "the 
B.  B.  B.'s," — Bartow's  Beardless  Boys, — 
with  their  handsome  blue-black  uniforms, 
with  buff  trimmings,  and  the  Zouave  bayonet 
drill,  "caught  the  crowd,"  and  more  than  one 
Oglethorpe  took  with  him  when  he  left  for 
the  front  a  tiny  photograph  or  a  card  with  a 
name  on  it. 

I  had  the  good  fortune  to  form  the  ac- 
quaintance of  the  family  of  Mr.  M.  W.  Yar- 
rington,  treasurer  of  the  Richmond  and 
Petersburg  Railroad,  of  whom  I  shall  have 
occasion  to  speak  again  in  these  war  stones. 


CHAPTER  V 

OFF  FOR  THE  FRONT 

Soon  we  were  ordered  to  Harper's  Ferry, 
making  our  first  march  of  eighteen  miles  be- 
tween the  towns  of  Strasburg  and  Winches- 
ter. Arriving  at  Harper's  Ferry,  we  marched 
through  the  village  and  went  up  on  Bolivar's 
Heights,  a  high  ridge  between  the  Potomac 
and  the  Shenandoah  and  overlooking  the 
town  from  the  west.  While  we  were  sta- 
tioned here  I  went  down  one  day  to  the  Po- 
tomac and  took  a  swim  among  the  rocks. 

At  this  point  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio 
Railroad  runs  along  the  river  bank  several 
hundred  feet  below  the  overhanging  moun- 
tains. The  Shenandoah  comes  in  along  the 
Blue  Ridge  range  from  the  south  and  joins 
the  Potomac  and,  with  united  volume,  they 
seemed  literally  to  have  torn  their  way 
through  the  mountain  range.  The  scenery 
is  grand  beyond  description.  From  Bolivar 
Heights  we  could  see  the  splendid  railroad 

47 


48 WAR  STORIES 

bridge  of  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Railroad 
that  spans  the  river  here.  We  could  see  also 
the  canal  along  the  north  bank  of  the 
Potomac. 

Not  long,  however,  did  we  tarry  at  Har- 
per's Ferry.  It  was  reported  that  General 
Patterson,  with  an  army  from  Pennsylvania, 
was  about  to  cross  the  river  above  us  and 
hem  us  in.  So  General  Joe  Johnston  made 
the  first  of  his  famous  retreats.  We  went 
up  the  river  toward  Martinsburg,  turned 
south,  and  finally  got  back  to  Winchester  and 
pitched  tents  in  Hollingsworth  Grove,  east 
of  the  town.  Once  or  twice  while  here  we 
prepared  two  or  three  days'  rations  and 
marched  toward  the  Potomac  to  offer  battle, 
it  was  said,  to  Patterson. 

TAKING  THE  UNION  MAN'S  HONEY 

It  was  on  one  of  these  trips  that  a  personal 
incident  occurred  that  is  worth  relating. 

Our  cooked  rations  had  given  out  and  we 
were  beginning  to  feel,  as  all  hungry  soldiers 
do,  that  we  had  not  had  "a  mouthful  for 
three  days."  So  when  we  started  on  our 
march  back  for  camp  John  W.,  Henry  P., 
and  myself  decided  we  would  "fall  out"  and 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN  49 

hide  in  the  shrubbery  in  the  front  yard  of  a 
residence  until  the  army  and  Captain  Scott's 
"rearguard"  had  passed;  then  we  would  see 
what  could  be  done  at  the  house  for  some- 
thing to  eat. 

There  were  some  bee-hives  among  the 
grass  and  clov7er  in  the  front  yard.  They 
stood  on  the  end,  and  a  small  box,  perhaps 
six  inches  square,  was  on  each  gum.  In  these 
was  the  new  honey. 

When  the  army  had  passed  we  went  to  the 
rear  of  the  large  brick  residence  and  rapped 
on  the  door.  A  man  responded  from  an  up- 
stairs window  and  inquired  what  we  wanted. 
We  told  him  to  come  down,  that  we  wanted 
to  talk  to  him.  He  came.  We  explained  our 
famishing  condition  and  asked  him  to  sell  us 
a  box  of  honey,  one  of  those  small  square 
boxes  on  the  hives.  He  flatly  refused.  We 
told  him  we  were  nearly  starved;  had  not 
eaten  anything  but  green  apples  for  two  days 
and  he  ought  really  to  give  us  one  of  the 
boxes.  He  got  angry  and  said  we  Secession- 
ists had  brought  all  this  trouble  on  the  coun- 
try and  a  little  starving  might  do  us  good. 

Then  John  said,  "You  know,  my  friend, 
some  soldiers  don't  ask  people  to  give  or  sell 
them  things  when  they  are  hungry." 


5o  WAR  STORIES 


"Yes,"  said  he,  "I've  heard  of  such,  and 
I'm  ready  for  them."  With  that  he  reached 
inside  and  got  a  double-barreled  shotgun,  and 
declared  that  any  man  who  touched  his  prop- 
erty would  do  so  at  the  risk  of  his  life. 

"Oh!  you  wouldn't  kill  a  man,"  said  I, 
"for  a  few  pounds  of  honey?" 

"Yes,  I  would,"  he  promptly  replied. 

"But  we  are  willing  to  buy  the  honey;  sell 
us  that  or  something  else  to  eat." 

"No,  I  won't,  and  if  any  man  attempts  to 
take  my  property  I  will  kill  him." 

The  stock  of  his  gun  was  on  the  ground, 
the  palm  of  his  hand  over  the  muzzle.  Quick 
as  a  flash,  as  we  say,  John's  rifle  was  at  his 
breast  and,  looking  him  full  in  the  face,  John 
said,  "And  if  you  move  I'll  kill  vow." 

Henry  dropped  his  gun  to  the  same  posi- 
tion and  said,  "We  sure  will." 

The  man  stood  like  a  statue. 

"Well,  boys,"  said  I,  "if  you  hold  him 
that  way  I'll  get  the  honey." 

Going  to  the  hives,  I  put  my  hankderchief 
on  the  grass,  looked  back  to  see  if  they  were 
still  holding  him,  then  lifted  off  the  little 
box,  tied  the  four  corners  of  my. handker- 
chief over  it  and  left.  As  I  passed  out  of  the 
gate  I  looked  back  and  saw  the  three  coming 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN  51 


down  the  walk,  the  man  between  John  and 
Henry,  and  without  his  gun.  They  brought 
him  on  down  the  road  a  few  hundred  yards 
and  turned  him  loose.  We  saw  no  more  of 
him. 

What  inconsistent  creatures  we  are!  We 
were  in  Virginia  for  the  purpose  of  protect- 
ing the  people  from  the  invaders  who  were 
coming  to  coerce  us  and  take  or  destroy  our 
property,  and  it  had  not  been  two  months 
since  we  were  applauding  Jackson,  the  Alex- 
andria hotel  proprietor,  for  killing  the  col- 
onel of  a  Federal  regiment  who  with  a  squad 
of  soldiers  had  pulled  down  the  Confederate 
flag  from  his  building  and  was  carrying  it 
off.  And  here  we  were  entering  this  man's 
premises  and  carrying  off  his  property!  The 
only  difference  in  the  two  cases  was  that  Col- 
onel Ellsworth  was  an  officer  in  charge  of  a 
body  of  men  for  whom  he  was  setting  a  bad 
example,  while  we  were  private  soldiers 
doing  a  thing  which  we  knew  our  officers  dis- 
approved and  for  which  we  would  be  severely 
dealt  with  if  found  out.  We  were  both 
wrong.  Jackson  was  right  to  defend  his 
property,  the  Confederate  flag,  and  so  was 
this  man  in  his  determination  to  defend  his 
honey. 


52 WAR  STORIES 

But  let  me  finish  my  story.  We  stopped 
at  a  little  rippling  stream  and  began  on  the 
honey.  It  was  delicious  and  we  thoroughly 
enjoyed  it.  Then  we  lay  down  at  the  edge 
of  the  stream  and  filled  up  with  water.  Then 
John  stopped,  looked  serious  and  said, 
"Boys,  I  believe  mine  is  coming  ba-,  ba-back," 
and  began  vomiting.  Henry  followed  suit; 
and  mine  at  once  became  restless,  and  up  it 
came. 

TO   JOIN   BEAUREGARD  AT   MANASSAS 

On  Thursday,  the  1 8th  of  July,  about 
noon,  we  got  orders  to  get  ready  to  cook 
three  days'  rations.  We  were  at  our  camp 
in  Hollingsworth  Grove,  east  of  Winchester. 
"Another  trot  toward  Martinsburg  all  for 
nothing,"  said  some  of  the  boys;  but  we 
cooked  the  biscuits  and  fried  the  "streak  of 
lean  and  streak  of  fat"  and  about  two  o'clock 
we  struck  tents,  loaded  the  wagons,  and 
started.  We  passed  through  Winchester 
and  took  a  road  due  east.  "Where  are  we 
going?"  was  eagerly  asked  on  all  sides. 
No  one  knew.  After  marching  two  or  three 
miles  we  halted  for  a  rest.  The  boys 
crowded   around    Lieutenant-Colonel   Gard- 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  53 

ner,  who  always  seemed  disposed  to  be  so- 
ciable and  often  walked  along  with  us  on  a 
march  instead  of  riding.  He  told  us  that 
all  he  knew  was  that  we  were  to  "stop  for 
the  night  on  the  Blue  Ridge  Mountains 
yonder,"  pointing  to  them.  We  set  up  a 
yell,  for  the  mountains  looked  to  be  only 
three  or  four  miles  distant.  But  we  marched 
till  sunset  and  the  sleepy  old  mountains 
seemed  no  nearer  than  when  we  started.  We 
kept  on.  Near  midnight  some  one  passed 
the  word  back,  "Get  ready  to  wade  the 
river."  I  paid  little  attention  to  it,  for 
really  all  my  ideas  about  a  river  were  of 
the  Savannah,  down  near  Ebenezer,  and  the 
Potomac  as  I  saw  it  at  Harper's  Ferry,  and 
it  seemed  absurd  to  me  to  talk  about  wading 
the  river.  But,  sure  enough,  in  a  few 
minutes  we  were  at  the  water's  edge  and  the 
boys  waded  right  into  it.  I  sat  down  to 
collect  my  thoughts  and  to  be  sure  I  was  not 
dreaming.  I  think  I  had  nodded  several 
times  as  I  was  marching.  But  I  could  not 
convince  myself  it  was  all  a  dream,  for  soon 
all  the  boys  of  the  regiment  had  disappeared 
in  the  rapidly  flowing  stream.  And  now  the 
wagons  began  to  enter.  I  thought  of 
scrambling  up   into    one,   but   they   plunged 


54 WAR  STORIES 

down  the  bank  so  hurriedly  that  there  seemed 
small  chance  of  my  getting  into  one  of  them. 
So  I  took  up  seriously  the  matter  of  crossing 
on  my  own  account. 

I  decided  it  would  be  best  to  have  dry 
clothes  and  shoes  for  the  march  after  I 
crossed,  so  I  pulled  them  off  and  tied  them 
up  in  a  bundle.  This  I  hung  on  my  gun 
and,  with  a  heavy  knapsack  on  my  back  and 
my  bundle  of  clothes  swung  to  my  gun  over- 
head, I  entered  the  stream.  Again  my 
thoughts  reverted  to  the  Savannah  River, 
and  old  Ebenezer  Creek  near  my  home. 
Their  bottoms  were  of  clay  or  sand,  but 
this  river,  the  Shenandoah,  seemed  to  have 
its  bottom  covered  with  crushed  rocks,  with 
their  sharp  edges  upward.  From  my  earli- 
est recollection  I  could  never  walk  well  at 
night,  and  feeling  my  way  over  this  rocky 
bottom,  and  with  the  swift  current  twisting 
my  legs  (the  water  was  from  two  to  three 
feet  deep),  I  made  slow  time,  you  may  be 
sure.  But  finally  I  reached  the  eastern  bank 
and,  putting  on  my  clothes  and  shoes,  I 
went  forward  to  overtake  the  boys,  who,  I 
thought,  were  surely  asleep  by  this  time  on 
the  mountain,  for  it  was  midnight.  I  soon 
found  I  was  "going  up  hill,  more  than  down," 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  55 

and  knew  I  was  climbing  the  mountain.  A 
mile  or  two  brought  me  among  the  boys, 
who  were  lying  on  each  side  of  the  road. 
Many  a  short  "No,  you  fool,"  greeted  me 
as  I  waked  up  first  one  and  then  another 
to  inquire  if  this  was  Company  B,  Eighth 
Georgia.  The  regiment  was  marching  "by 
the  right  flank,"  which  put  Company  B  near 
the  front,  and  that  meant  I  must  pass  through 
six  hundred  men  before  reaching  "our  boys." 
But  I  finally  reached  them  and,  dropping 
down  on  the  rocky  road,  was  soon  asleep. 
Friday  morning,  the  19th,  came  all  too 
soon,  and  we  resumed  the  march  down  the 
eastern  slope  of  the  Blue  Ridge. 

VIRGINIA    HOUSEWIVES   GIVE   ARMY 
BREAKFAST 

After  a  march  of  two  hours,  and  cover- 
ing a  distance  of  perhaps  five  miles,  we  came 
to  a  place  where  a  carriage  gate  on  our 
left  opened  and  a  circular  driveway  led  to 
a  large  brick  residence  with  a  long  veranda. 
A  negro  in  a  white  apron  stood  in  the  gate- 
way and,  with  intense  earnestness,  kept  say- 
ing, "Missus  says  come  up  to  breakfast." 
"Come    right  up,    Missus  says,    all   of  you 


S6 WAR  S  TORIES 

come  right  up."  Company  A,  the  Rome 
Light  Guards,  wore  a  handsome  gray  uni- 
form with  frock  coats,  and  Company  B, 
the  Oglethorpes,  followed  in  a  handsome 
blue-black  uniform,  and  not  only  frock  coats 
but  with  epaulet  straps  on  our  shoulders, 
giving  us  much  the  appearance  of  officers. 
The  boys  hurrahed,  saying:  "The  fool  thinks 
we  are  officers."  But  the  negro  pressed 
his  invitation  from  "Missus"  so  earnestly 
that  the  head  of  the  column  turned  into  the 
gateway  and  up  the  drive.  When  we  ap- 
proached the  house  a  lady  standing  on  the 
front  veranda  said,  "Glad  to  see  you,  dear 
boys;  just  pass  round  the  house  to  the  dining- 
room."  We  passed;  we  came  to  the  dining- 
room;  we  entered.  It  makes  me  hungry  now 
as  I  write  this,  fifty  years  afterward,  and 
think  of  what  I  saw  on  that  dining-room 
table:  biscuits  by  the  bushel,  sliced  bread  and 
ham  in  stacks  two  feet  high,  cakes  and  dough- 
nuts of  all  sizes  and  shapes,  and  on  each 
side  of  the  exit  door  innumerable  tubs  and 
cans  of  hot  coffee.  There  was  too  much 
going  on  for  me  to  try  to  describe  all  I 
saw  in  that  wonderful  dining-room.  But  we 
were  not  allowed  to  tarry.  A  half  dozen 
or  more  ladies  were  posted  along  the  sides 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  57 

of  the  long  table  and  they  literally  passed 
us  along,  at  the  same  time  stuffing  our  hav- 
ersacks as  we  proceeded,  and  saying,  "You 
haven't  time  to  stop  to  eat;  you  are  going 
to  Manassas  to  help  Beauregard  ;  the  Yan- 
kees attacked  him  yesterday  and  were  re- 
pulsed.   You  must  get  there  to  help  him." 

This  was  our  first  knowledge  that  we  were 
going  to  Manassas.  It  is  needless  to  say 
that,  coming  under  the  circumstances  I  have 
feebly  described  and  from  the  lips  of  these 
dear  women,  the  news  that  we  were  soon 
to  take  a  hand  in  driving  back  the  invaders 
filled  us  with  a  joy  and  gladness  little  short 
of  ecstasy.  As  we  passed  down  the  circular 
driveway  to  the  other  gate  and  out  to  the 
turnpike,  I  saw  the  stream  of  men  still  mov- 
ing up  toward  that  dining-room.  The  scene 
is  as  fresh  and  vivid  in  my  mind  to-day  as 
when  I  saw  it  that  Friday  morning  July  19, 
1861. 

RIDING  IN   OR  ON  A   FREIGHT  CAR — WHICH? 

That  day  we  came  to  a  station  on  the 
Manassas  Gap  Railroad,  said  to  be  about 
twenty-five  miles  from  Manassas  Junction, 
our  destination  according  to  the  good  ladies 


WAR  STORIES 


who  furnished  our  breakfast  and  filled  our 
haversacks.  About  sunset  we  boarded  a 
freight  train.  You  remember  it  was  July. 
I  thought  the  top  of  the  car  would  be  the 
best  place,  so  I  climbed  up.  But  soon  the 
heated  metal  and  boards,  supplemented  with 
cinders  and  smoke  from  the  engine,  caused 
me  to  want  to  be  inside  the  car.  So  at  the 
first  station  I  swung  down  and  entered.  I 
thought  of  the  "black  hole  of  Calcutta"  and 
began  to  think  my  time  had  come — not  from 
Yankee  bullets,  but  from  choking  suffoca- 
tion. I  felt  that  I  was  being  cooked  alive. 
I  have  disliked  the  looks  of  a  freight  car 
ever  since  that  night.  Do  you  blame  me? 
I  slept  some,  of  course,  but  was  waked  up 
every  few  minutes,  it  seemed  to  me,  by  rude 
jolts  as  we  backed  or  went  into  a  side  track 
to  get  out  of  the  way  of  an  approaching 
train. 

It  was  said  the  employees  or  officials  were 
in  sympathy  with  the  Yankees  and  were 
simply  "killing  time"  to  delay  our  arrival 
at  Manassas.  However  that  may  be,  it  is 
a  fact  we  took  all  night  to  make  that  twenty- 
five  miles,  and  did  not  reach  Manassas  Junc- 
tion until  seven  or  eight  o'clock  Saturday 
morning. 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  59 

FIRST   SIGHT   OF    BEAUREGARD 

I  saw  Beauregard  for  the  first  time  that 
morning.  It  was  when  Colonel  Bartow  rode 
up  to  him  and  said,  "General,  I  am  here 
with  my  boys,  the  Eighth  Georgia  Regiment, 
and  I  have  promised  them  they  shall  be  in 
the  opening  of  the  fight."  "They  shall  be 
gratified,"  replied  Beauregard,  and,  calling 
an  officer,  directed  him  to  take  Colonel  Bar- 
tow out  to  some  road  to  the  extreme  right. 
We  marched  out  about  three  miles  and  halted 
in  a  piece  of  woods. 

Beauregard  was  of  rather  small  stature, 
smooth-faced,  and  with  swarthy  complexion. 
He  was  quick-spoken  and  bright. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  BATTLE  OF  MANASSAS  OR  BULL  RUN 

Now  I  am  not  going  to  tell  minutely  all 
that  I  saw  and  heard  in  every  battle  that  I 
was  in,  but  as  the  Battle  of  Manassas  or 
Bull  Run  was  my  first,  and  as  a  battle  is  so 
different  from  what  it  is  thought  by  most 
people  to  be,  I  will  try  to  tell  everything 
a'bout  this  one  that  I  think  will  interest  the 
reader. 

Just  after  dark  Colonel  Bartow  came 
down  to  the  company — his  Savannah  boys, 
the  Oglethorpe  Light  Infantry  now  known 
as  Company  B — and  gave  us  a  fatherly  talk. 
I  remember  his  saynig  he  had  secured  for  us 
the  honor  of  being  in  the  opening  of  the 
battle,  which  would  begin  at  daylight,  and 
he  felt  sure  we  would  acquit  ourselves  well. 
But  his  last  words  somewhat  saddened  me. 
He  said,  "But  remember,  boys,  that  battle 
and  fighting  mean  death,  and  probably  be- 
fore sunrise  some  of  us  will  be  dead."  As 
60 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  61 

I  lay  on  my  blanket,  when  all  was  hushed 
and  still,  and  looked  up  at  the  starry  vault 
and  thought  of  the  morrow  and  the  last 
words  of  Bartow,  I  confess  I  was  a  bit  home- 
sick.    But  I  slept  soundly. 

The  dawn  came,  but  there  was  nothing 
that  seemed  like  a  battle.  Sunrise  came,  but 
still  no  battle.  Then  Bartow  came  and 
moved  about  nervously,  as  if  worried.  Then 
he  galloped  away,  but  about  eight  o'clock, 
it  must  have  been,  he  dashed  up  and  ex- 
claimed, "Get  ready,  men!  the  battle  has 
been  raging  for  two  hours  on  our  extreme 
left,  and  we  must  go  there  at  once."  Soon 
we  were  in  line  and  off  at  a  double  quick 
for  "our  left,"  which  I  supposed  meant  over 
in  the  woods  a  half  mile  or  so  west  of  us. 
But  on  we  went.  Frequently  Colonel  Bartow 
would  gallop  up  to  troops  or  artillery  in 
position  as  we  passed  along  in  their  rear 
and  inquire,  "Is  this  our  extreme  left?"  He 
was  told  it  was  not,  and  on  we  trotted.  My! 
how  tired  I  was  and  how  the  perspiration 
oozed  from  every  pore !  Presently  from  an 
officer  of  an  artillery  company  that  we  were 
passing,  Colonel  Bartow  received  the  answer 
that  he  was  at  the  extreme  left.  We  had 
come   four  or  five  miles,   I  am  sure.     The 


62 WAR  S TORIES 

head  of  our  column  turned  to  the  right.  We 
passed  through  a  skirt  of  woods,  then  into 
a  cornfield,  the  stalks  being  about  waist  high. 
We  were  halted  and  Lieutenant  Colonel 
Gardner  said,  "Let  the  men  load  their  guns 
and  lie  down."  He  said  this  very  calmly, 
and  as  if  no  special  significance  attached  to 
his  words. 

A  large  apple  tree  was  to  our  left,  loaded 
with  red  apples,  and  many  of  the  boys,  as 
soon  as  they  finished  loading,  ran  to  it  and 
with  rocks  and  lumps  of  dirt  began  to  throw 
at  the  apples;  some  climbed  up  the  tree. 
The  company  officers  yelled  to  them  to  come 
back  into  ranks.  Colonel  Gardner  remarked, 
"I  see  a  battery  taking  position  over  yonder; 
they  will  need  orders  in  a  few  minutes." 
A  battery  means  an  artillery  company  with 
four  cannons.  I  did  not  know  this  at  that 
time,  and  he  spoke  so  calmly  I  had  no  thought 
he  meant  anything  very  serious. 

He  had  scarcely  uttered  the  words  when 
I  heard  a  cannon,  and  a  moment  after  I 
heard  the  shrieking  ball, — a  conical  shell,  I 
afterward  learned  it  was, — and  it  seemed 
coming  straight  for  me.  The  boys  dropped 
from  the  apple  tree  like  shot  bears,  and 
scrambled    on    hands    and    knees    for    their 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  63 

places  in  the  line.  Under  some  circumstances 
the  sight  was  a  laughable  one,  but  not  so 
to  me  at  that  moment.  I  felt  that  I  was 
in  the  presence  of  death.  My  first  thought 
was,  "This  is  unfair;  somebody  is  to  blame 
for  getting  us  all  killed.  I  didn't  come  out 
here  to  fight  this  way;  I  wish  the  earth  would 
crack  open  and  let  me  drop  in."  Now  that 
cannon  was  only  about  a  half  mile  away,  and 
that  ball  was  only  two  or  three  seconds  reach- 
ing us,  but  all  those  thoughts  passed  through 
my  mind  in  those  brief  moments.  Then  with 
a  shrieking,  unearthly  sound — woo-00-00- 
p-o-w!  It  passed  and  exploded.  To  say  I 
was  frightened,  is  tame.  The  truth  is,  there 
is  no  word  in  Webster's  Unabridged  that 
describes  my  feelings.  I  had  never  been  in 
the  very  presence  of  death  before,  and  if 
my  hair  at  that  moment  had  turned  as  white 
as  cotton  it  would  not  have  surprised  me. 
Colonel  Gardner  was  standing  a  few  feet 
away  from  where  I  was  lying.  "That  went 
a  hundred  feet  over  us,"  he  coolly  said,  "but 
the  next  will  come  closer.  Here  it  comes! 
Tie  low!"  He  was  looking  at  the  cannons, 
of  course,  and  saw  the  flash.  I  wriggled 
to  get  lower  as  he  directed,  but  the  ground 
was  hard  and  I  couldn't  get  into  it.     I  think 


64 WAR  STORIES 

I  tried  to  spread  and  flatten  myself.  But 
it  was  all  in  vain.  The  noise  of  the  ball 
left  no  room  for  doubt  that  in  a  moment 
I  would  be  killed.  "What  a  fool!  I'm 
gone!  I'm  dead!"  Just  then  the  ball  struck 
the  ground  a  few  feet  ahead  of  us.  It  went 
into  the  earth  and  exploded,  throwing  a 
wagonload  of  earth  and  clods  into  the  air. 
A  lump  as  big  as  my  fist  fell  on  me,  striking 
between  my  shoulders.  I  stretched  out  both 
hands  and  shut  my  eyes.  I  was  dead;  that 
is,  I  thought  I  was,  which  was  all  the  same 
for  the  moment.  The  next  ball  passed  over 
Company  A  and  Company  B  and  struck  in 
Company  C,  and  exploded,  killing  and 
wounding  several  men.  Colonel  Bartow  gal- 
loped up  at  this  moment  to  Colonel  Gardner 
and  exclaimed,  "They  have  your  range,  Col- 
onel, charge  them!" 

"Attention,  right  face,  double  quick, 
march !"  cried  out  Gardner.  Every  man  was 
on  his  feet  immediately.  We  ran  forward 
a  few  steps,  then  halted.  Colonel  Gardner 
took  his  position  before  the  regiment  and 
said,  "Men,  I  am  no  orator.  I  shall  not 
attempt  to  make  you  a  speech.  Keep  your 
ranks,  do  your  duty,  and  show  you  are 
worthy  of  the  State  from  which  you  came ! 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  6s 

Right  face,  double  quick,  march!"  These 
were  Colonel  Gardner's  exact  words.  We 
were  off  in  a  run  for  the  guns.  We  moved 
by  the  right  flank,  which  means  the  right  end 
of  the  regiment  in  front,  and  I  will  add  here, 
for  the  information  of  the  children,  that  a 
regiment  consists  of  ten  companies,  each 
company  having  usually  seventy  or  eighty 
men.  Our  regiment  numbered  about  seven 
hundred  that  morning.  I  suppose  it  was 
the  intention  of  our  commander  to  get  the 
regiment  on  the  flank  or  side  of  the  battery 
before  charging  it,  killing  or  driving  off  the 
men  and  capturing  the  guns. 

CHARGING  THE  BATTERY 

Of  course  while  we  were  running  forward 
the  men  at  the  cannons  changed  the  direction 
of  the  guns  and  continued  to  fire  at  us.  We 
made  good  headway,  however,  and  were  soon 
on  the  flank  of  the  battery.  It  was  stationed 
near  the  oft-mentioned  Henry  house.  We 
entered  a  pine  sapling  thicket,  and  were 
halted  directly  north  of  the  house.  Then 
we  faced  to  the  left  and  started  forward.  A 
few  steps  brought  us  to  the  edge  of  the 
thicket  and,  looking  up  the  hillside,  we  saw 


66  WAR  STORIES 


the  "Bluecoats"  literally  covering  the  earth. 
They  were  in  the  shubbery  in  the  front  yard, 
down  through  the  horse  lot,  behind  the 
stables  and  barns  and  haystacks.  Seemingly 
a  thousand  rifles  were  flashing  and  the  air 
was  alive  with  whistling  bullets.  Men  were 
dropping  at  my  right  and  left.  I  kneeled 
at  a  sapling,  fired,  reloaded,  and  fired  again; 
but  it  was  impossible  to  see  if  my  shots  hit 
anyone.  To  my  right  and  left  I  could  hear 
the  balls  striking  our  boys,  and  I  saw  many 
of  them  fall  forward,  some  groaning  in 
agony,  others  dropping  dead  without  a  word. 
It  seemed  to  me,  every  second,  a  bullet  cut 
the  bark  of  my  sapling  and  I  felt  sure  I 
would  be  struck,  but  I  loaded  and  fired  as 
rapidly  as  I  could. 

Colonel  Gardner  was  one  of  the  first  men 
wounded.  I  saw  him  drop  down  and  seize 
his  ankle,  and  I  asked  him  if  I  could  help 
him.  "No,"  he  replied,  "shoot  on."  Pres- 
ently there  was  some  commotion  to  our  right 
and,  looking  in  that  direction,  I  saw  a  line 
of  Federal  soldiers  coming  through  the  thick 
undergrowth  not  more  than  fifty  steps  dis- 
tant. They  fired  a  volley  down  our  line. 
A  ball  from  this  volley  struck  my  gun  at  the 
small  of  the  stock,  burning  my  little  finger, 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  67 

and  passed  across  my  breast.  I  saw  it  was 
"all  up"  with  us,  and  as  everyone  about  me 
seemed  to  be  dead  or  wounded,  I  determined 
to  take  my  chances  of  saving  myself  by  get- 
ting away  as  fast  as  I  could.  I  had  no  order 
to  retreat,  but  I  felt  that  was  the  thing  to 
do;  so  I  left  my  sapling  and  was  soon  out 
of  the  thicket. 

Just  ahead  of  me  I  saw  a  body  of  men 
crowding  around  a  flag,  but  moving  along 
quite  rapidly.  I  ran  toward  them,  and  soon 
recognized  the  flag  as  our  own  Eighth  Geor- 
gia banner.  No  shipwrecked  sailor,  float- 
ing on  driftwood  and  seeing  a  rescuing  ship 
approaching,  would  have  been  more  over- 
joyed than  I  was  at  the  sight  of  that  flag, 
just  then.  I  could  have  shed  tears.  But  by 
the  time  I  overtook  them  I  was  exhausted 
and  could  scarcely  put  one  foot  before  the 
other.  I  just  could  not  keep  up,  so  I  dropped 
down  into  a  gully  to  catch  breath.  The  air 
seemed  so  full  of  bullets  that  I  felt  if  I  raised 
my  hand  it  would  be  struck. 

BEAUTIFUL  ADVANCE  OF  N.  Y.  FIRE  ZOUAVES 

While  lying  here  I  looked  across  the  fields 
westward    and   saw   a    body   of   soldiers    in 


68  WAR  STORIES 

crimson  uniform  emerge  from  a  piece  of 
woods  and  start  across  the  old  field.  What 
a  beautiful  sight  they  were,  as  with  well  pre- 
served line  they  moved  across  the  undulat- 
ing field !  I  knew  they  were  Yankees,  and 
my  heart  sank  as  I  saw  them  move  along  in 
such  a  beautiful  line.  Presently  they  reached 
the  eastern  edge  of  the  old  field  and  entered 
a  thicket  of  small  pines  and  undergrowth. 
I  saw  the  white  smoke  rise  above  the  bushes, 
and  I  heard  the  rattle  of  musketry.  How 
it  thrilled  me!  The  soldiers  in  red  burst 
back  into  the  open,  every  fellow  for  him- 
self. Their  arms  were  moving  wildly,  guns 
and  haversacks  and  canteens  were  being 
hurled  right  and  left,  and  now  from  the 
woods  rushed  their  pursuers,  the  Confed- 
erates, shooting  as  they  ran.  In  a  few 
minutes  it  was  all  over.  The  famous  New 
York  Fire  Zouaves  had  met  more  than  their 
match  and  had  been  driven  pell-mell  across 
the  field  over  which  they  had  advanced  a 
few  minutes  before  in  such  a  beautiful  line. 
But  all  this  occurred  in  much  less  time 
than  it  has  taken  me  to  write  it.  I  felt  rested 
enough  to  get  another  "move"  on  me,  and 
I  soon  ran  upon  our  boys  again,  who  had 
halted  behind  a  hill.     In  a  few  minutes  an 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  69 

officer  on  a  horse,  who  seemed  to  be  carry- 
ing orders,  rode  up  and  conducted  us  to  the 
rear.  Where  two  roads  crossed  we  passed 
Beauregard.  He  raised  his  hat  and  said, 
"I  salute  you,  gallant  Eighth."  The  regi- 
ment ever  after  bore  this  name,  given  to  it 
by  the  commanding  general  in  this  its  first 
baptism  of  fire.  Hampton's  regiment  of 
South  Carolinians  was  in  line  here  and  we 
took  position  behind  them. 

Our  regiment  had  been  badly  disorganized, 
and  no  one  seemed  to  have  charge  of  us. 
We  were  simply  following  our  color-bearer. 
It  proved  that  Colonel  Bartow,  who  was 
acting  brigade  commander  that  morning  in 
charge  of  the  Seventh  and  Eighth  Georgia 
regiments,  had  left  us  to  bring  up  the 
Seventh.  He  was  killed  leading  that  regi- 
ment to  our  relief.  Our  Lieutenant  Colonel 
Gardner  was  wounded,  as  I  said,  just  after 
we  entered  the  thicket  and,  being  unable  to 
retire,  was  captured.  The  next  in  command, 
Major  Cooper,  had  in  some  way  become  sepa- 
rated from  the  regiment  in  the  thicket  and 
did  not  find  us  until  two  or  three  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon. 

While  we  were  lying  down  in  the  rear 
of   Hampton's    regiment,    our   color-bearer, 


70 WAR  STORIES 

Charles  Daniel,  kept  our  flag  flying.  Again 
and  again  it  was  struck  by  rifle  balls,  but  it 
was  of  silk  and  they  failed  to  pierce  it,  simply 
making  a  shrill  whistle  as  they  glanced  on 
it.  More  than  once  some  one  of  our  boys 
called  out,  "Put  down  that  flag."  But  Daniel 
replied,  "They  told  me  to  hold  it  up  when 
they  gave  it  to  me,  and  I'll  do  it."  "Put 
down  that  flag;  they'll  know  we  are  here." 
"That's  what  we  want,"  said  Daniel,  and 
kept  it  flying. 

After  a  while  Hampton's  command  was 
ordered  forward,  and  we  were  led  back  a  few 
hundred  yards  and  ordered  to  remain  there 
and  reorganize. 

About  four  o'clock  reports  came  that  the 
Yankees  had  been  driven  back  and  were 
crossing  Bull  Run.  Captain  West  of  our 
company  said  he  wanted  to  know  who  of  our 
boys  were  killed,  and  he  started  off  for  the 
sapling  thicket  where  we  had  fought.  With 
his  permission,  I  accompanied  him. 

GOING  AMONG  THE  DEAD  AFTER  THE  BATTLE 

I  shall  never  forget  the  feeling  that  came 
over  me  as  I  walked  among  the  dead  that 
afternoon.     "Surely,  surely,"  I  said,  "there 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  71 


will  never  be  another  battle."  It  seemed 
to  me  barbarous  for  men  to  try  to  settle 
any  dispute  or  controversy  by  shooting  one 
another,  and,  now  that  it  had  been  realized 
what  a  battle  meant,  I  felt  sure  there  would 
never  be  another.  But  not  so  thought  those 
both  North  and  South  who  had  not  taken 
part  in  this  battle.  And  so  there  was  no 
trouble  in  getting  volunteers  by  the  thousand 
from  both  sections,  to  take  the  places  of 
those  who  had  been  killed. 

The  day  after  the  battle  I  walked  over 
the  battle-field  and  stopped  a  few  minutes 
at  a  hospital.  The  surgeons  were  still  busy 
amputating  legs  and  arms.  I  saw  a  squad 
of  soldiers  burying  the  dead,  and  there  were 
other  squads  with  wagons  gathering  up  guns 
and  cartridge  boxes.  I  went  among  the  sap- 
lings in  the  thicket  where  we  had  fought. 
I  saw  trees  not  more  than  eight  inches  in 
diameter  that  had  been  struck  by  at  least 
twenty  balls,  and  I  wondered  how  any  of  us 
escaped.  As  I  am  not  writing  a  history, 
but  only  telling  what  I  saw,  I  will  not  at- 
tempt to  give  an  account  of  the  battle.  In 
fact,  I  know  of  my  own  knowledge  very 
little  beyond  what  occurred  right  around  me. 
No  one  can  see  a  battle,  for  it  covers  miles 


72 WAR  S TORIES 

of  country  with  intervening  woods,  and  hills, 
and  ravines,  and  the  excitement  is  so  great 
that  many  soldiers  do  not  even  see  what  is 
going  on  within  a  few  steps  of  them. 

I  have  often  thought  that  one  on  a  ship 
going  down  at  sea  must  have  the  most  help- 
less feeling  possible,  but  I  think  a  battle  not 
only  makes  one  feel  perfectly  helpless,  but 
also  impresses  on  him  as  nothing  else  can 
what  an  insignificant  creature  in  an  army 
one  man  is.  I  believe,  too,  no  soldier  in 
the  ranks  ever  wanted  to  go  into  a  second 
battle.  Of  course  he  was  willing  to  go,  but 
only  as  a  duty  that  pride  and  honor  would 
not  let  him  openly  avoid. 

PICTURE    IMPRESSIONS   AND   A   BATTLE 

In  pictures  of  battles  we  often  see  lines 
of  men  running  eagerly  toward  the  enemy. 
The  picture  is  correct  in  one  respect  only: 
the  men  do  run  forward  toward  a  battery 
or  breastworks  or  another  line  of  men,  who 
shoot  them  as  they  approach,  but  not  a  man 
in  that  charging  line  is  really  eager  to  go 
forward — not  if  he  had  ever  one  time  been 
under  fire  in  a  battle. 

And  yet  I  once  saw  a  man  shed  tears  be- 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN  73 

cause  he  had  missed  being  in  a  battle.  The 
man  was  Joseph  Gnann  of  our  company. 
When  we  received  orders,  as  I  have  stated, 
on  the  1 8th  of  July,  at  Winchester,  to  strike 
tents  and  start  we  knew  not  where,  Joe  was 
down  sick  and  could  not  go  with  us.  But 
when  the  news  reached  him  that  a  battle 
was  actually  going  on  at  Manassas,  he  got  up 
and  set  out  to  join  the  company.  He  reached 
us  two  or  three  days  after  the  battle  and, 
standing  in  a  group  of  the  boys  who  were 
telling  incidents  of  the  day,  he  listened  as 
eagerly  as  a  child  to  a  fairy  tale.  As  he 
drank  in  the  stories,  his  eyes  filled  with  tears 
that  flowed  over  and  coursed  down  his 
cheeks.  "Excuse  me,  boys;  I  can't  help  it; 
the  one  battle  that  I  came  out  here  to  be  in 
has  been  fought  and  I  have  missed  it;" 
and,  choking  with  feeling,  he  walked  away. 
I  was  at  his  side  when  we  went  into  the 
next  fight,  at  Dam  Number  One,  on  the 
Peninsula  near  Yorktown,  and  I  am  sure 
he  was  glad  when  the  order  to  charge  was 
given;  and  when  the  Vermonters  took  to 
their  heels  at  our  first  volley,  accompanied 
by  the  stirring  "rebel  yell,"  and  we  stopped 
from  our  pursuit  of  them  and  dropped  into 
the  ditch  at  the  water's  edge,  I  could  hardly 


74  WAR  STORIES 

keep  him  from  hugging  me.  He  was  so  over- 
joyed. He  was  in  a  number  of  other  en- 
gagements, but  after  awhile  he  left  us  to 
take  a  lieutenant's  place  in  a  company  of  the 
Fifty-fourth  Georgia,  in  the  western  army, 
and  in  the  battle  in  Atlanta,  July  22,  1864, 
he  was  killed — three  years  to  a  day,  almost 
exactly,  from  the  day  he  shed  tears  because 
he  had  missed  the  battle  of  Manassas. 


CHAPTER  VII 

FROM    BULL    RUN    OR    FIRST    MANASSAS    TO 
SECOND  MANASSAS 

About  two  months  after  the  battle  of 
Manassas  our  commanding  general,  Joseph 
E.  Johnston,  took  a  notion  to  move  the  army 
up  toward  Washington  to  see  what  was  go- 
ing on;  perhaps  to  find  out  if  the  Yankees 
had  really  gone  back  across  the  Potomac 
in  the  flight  from  Bull  Run.  Two  days  after, 
not  two  months,  would  have  been  considered 
too  long  for  this  move  by  some  men. 

Our  regiment  was  sent  to  Mason  and 
Munson's  Hill,  within  sight  of  Alexandria 
and  the  dome  of  the  Capitol  in  Washington. 
The  Federal  army  seemed  to  be  around 
Alexandria  on  this  side  of  the  river. 

One  very  dark  night  a  party  of  us  was 
taken  out  for  outpost  duty.  We  followed 
an  old  road,  and  two  men  were  left  at  each 
post  with  instructions  to  make  no  noise  and 

75 


j6  WAR  STORIES 

both  to  stay  awake.  My  companion  was 
Henry  Parnell.  We  stood  in  the  road  at 
the  end  of  what  seemed,  in  the  pitchy  dark- 
ness, to  be  an  old  barn  or  stable.  Sometime 
in  the  night,  when  all  was  still  and  quiet  as  a 
graveyard,  we  heard  a  movement  in  the  loft 
of  the  barn.  We  moved  up  closer  to  each 
other  and  I  felt  my  hair  rising  on  my  head. 
The  noise  became  louder.  I  whispered  to 
Henry  to  know  what  he  thought  it  meant. 
"M-a-n,  I  think,"  he  whispered.  We  waited 
in  breathless  silence.  Then  there  was  more 
noise,  as  if  there  were  several  of  them.  "You 
go  around  that  side  of  the  house  and  I'll 
go  on  this  side,"  I  whispered.  On  my  side 
was  a  door,  on  Henry's,  a  window.  The 
door  was  closed.  I  stood  a  moment  by  it, 
listening;  then  I  took  hold  of  it  softly  and 
jerked  it  open.  As  I  did  so  Henry  yelled 
out,  "O-o-e-e- !"  and  exclaimed,  "It's  a  cat! 
He  jumped  right  into  my  breast." 

Just  before  daylight  the  corporal  of  the 
guard  came  to  relieve  us.  We  reported, 
"Nothing  unusual   observed." 

OLD  SOLDIER  TRICKS 

One  night  I  was  detailed,  with  John  Webb, 
for  an  advanced  picket  post.     Knowing  that 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  77 


soldiers  on  guard,  "taking  turns"  with  one 
another,  never  agree  about  the  "off  time" — 
that  is,  the  time  spent  alternately  in  sleep  by 
them— I  urged  that  we  both  stay  up  all  night. 
John  objected,  and  I  finally  let  it  go  his  way, 
with  probably  a  "mental  reservation." 

I  let  John  take  the  first  "off,"  and  woke 
him  up  when  I  thought  he  had  slept  two 
hours,  to  take  his  turn  keeping  watch.  He 
protested,  of  course,  that  he  had  not  slept 
two  hours.  Then  I  stretched  out  on  the 
ground  for  my  nap.  It  seemed  to  me  that 
I  had  just  gotten  soundly  to  sleep  when  John 
nudged  me,  saying,  "Your  time."  I  got  up, 
rubbed  my  eyes  and  took  my  position  on  the 
off  side  of  the  big  chestnut  tree,  but  I  called 
up  that  "mental  reservation"  and  as  soon 
as  John  got  to  snoring  vigorously  I  went 
round  and  woke  him  up.  He  said  he  had  just 
gotten  to  sleep,  but  I  pointed  out  a  star  and 
told  him  about  its  position  when  he  "turned 
in"  and  remarked:  "Stars  don't  lie."  I 
lay  down,  but  did  not  shut  my  eyes.  Pres- 
ently I  yawned  and  turned  over.  John  came 
and  stooped  over  me  in  order  to  be  sure  I 
was  sleeping  soundly.  Then  he  spoke, 
"Sorry  to  have  to  wake  you,  but — "  "Con- 
found you  !"    I  said,  "you  don't  have  to  wake 


78       .  WAR  STORIES 

me,  for  I  haven't  closed  my  eyes  since  I  lay 
down,  and  I  haven't  been  here  a  half  hour." 
He  admitted  he  might  be  mistaken.  Then 
we  agreed  to  spend  the  rest  of  the  night 
without  "taking  turns,"  but  it  seemed  to 
me  the  longest  night  I  ever  spent. 

HOW  MEN  ARE  EXECUTED  IN  THE  ARMY 

On  one  occasion  I  saw  two  men  executed, 
men  who  had  been  tried  by  a  court-martial 
and  sentenced  to  be  shot.  I  am  sure  it  will 
interest  my  young  friends  to  know  exactly 
how  it  is  done,  so  I  will  describe  the  affair. 

It  was  in  the  fall  or  early  part  of  the  winter 
of  1 861-1862,  while  our  army  was  stationed 
at  Centerville.  We  had  in  the  army  a  bat- 
talion of  men  from  Louisiana,  known  as  the 
"Tiger  Rifles."  They  wore  Zouave  uni- 
forms, that  is,  baggy  knee  breeches,  stock- 
ings, a  jacket,  and  a  turban.  Each  one  car- 
ried also  a  large  camp  knife  in  a  sheath 
suspended  from  his  waist-belt.  They  were 
said  to  be  rough  men,  requiring  the  strictest 
discipline  by  the  officers.  Two  of  them  had 
overpowered  an  officer  and  was  about  to  kill 
him,  and  for  this  they  had  been  court-mar- 
tialed and  condemned  to  be  shot. 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  79 

Announcement  had  been  made  in  an  order 
from  General  Johnston,  commanding  the 
army  at  that  time,  that  the  execution  would 
take  place  on  a  certain  day,  and  it  seemed  to 
be  expected  that  it  would  be  witnessed  by 
the  whole  army.  During  all  the  forenoon 
of  the  designated  day  crowds  of  soldiers 
could  be  seen  wending  their  way  to  the  place 
where  the  execution  was  to  take  place.  When 
I  reached  the  place  there  were  probably 
five  thousand  soldiers  already  on  the  ground. 
Three  sides  of  a  hollow  square,  the  sides 
probably  four  hundred  feet  long,  had  been 
formed,  and  sentinels  were  marching  up  and 
down  keeping  the  crowd  back.  On  the  open 
side  of  the  square  were  two  posts  standing 
about  two  feet  out  of  the  ground  and  per- 
haps thirty  feet  apart.  The  crowd  rapidly 
increased  until  probably  fifteen  thousand 
men  were  standing  on  the  three  sides  of  the 
hollow  square. 

I  had  a  position  in  the  front  row,  but 
the  crowd  behind  kept  pushing  forward,  and 
the  sentinel  threatened  repeatedly  to  put 
his  bayonet  into  those  of  us  in  front  if  we 
did  not  stand  back.  Finally  the  prisoners 
arrived.  They  came  in  a  wagon,  which  also 
contained  their  coffins.     They  were  led  to 


8o  WAR  STORIES 


the  posts  and  made  to  kneel  down  with  their 
backs  to  them.  Their  hands  were  tied  be- 
hind them  and  then  tied  to  the  posts,  and 
they  were  blindfolded.  Two  platoons  of 
twelve  soldiers  each  were  marched  out  in 
front  of  them.  They  were  of  the  same  com- 
mand with  the  men  who  were  to  be  shot. 
It  was  said  that  only  six  of  the  guns  in  each 
platoon  had  balls  in  them,  the  others  being 
loaded  with  blank  cartridges, — that  is,  car- 
tridges without  balls.  But  no  soldier  knew 
which  guns  had  the  ball  cartridges  in  them, 
as  they  had  been  loaded  by  others.  The  of- 
ficer in  charge  of  the  two  platoons  stood 
somewhat  to  their  front,  where  he  could 
readily  be  seen  by  all  of  the  men  of  the  two 
platoons.  Without  saying  a  word,  he  raised 
his  hands  and  the  men  brought  their  guns 
to  the  position  of  aim.  He  dropped  his  hand 
and  they  fired.  The  orders  were  given  si- 
lently by  these  movements,  so  that  the 
prisoners  would  not  know  the  exact  moment 
when  they  would  be  killed.  It  was  a  very 
sad  sight  and  one  that  deeply  impressed  me. 

TELLING   A    FALSEHOOD    FOR    HONOR'S    SAKE 

On  one  of  those  occasions  that  frequently 
occurred  in  the  hurried  forming  of  a  line 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN 


of  battle,  it  happened  that  a  farmhouse  oc- 
cupied by  an  old  gentleman  and  his  wife  and 
daughter  was  exactly  on  the  line.  Suppos- 
ing, like  ourselves,  that  the  battle  would 
begin  in  a  few  minutes,  they  hurried  away, 
leaving  everything  at  the  mercy  of  the  sol- 
diers. The  battle  did  not  take  place,  how- 
ever, and  that  afternoon  some  of  the  boys 
tested  the  old  man's  honey.  In  doing  so 
they  angered  the  bees  and  some  of  those  who 
had  no  part  in  taking  the  honey  got  stung. 
Among  them  was  my  close  companion  and 
messmate,  Billy  Dasher.  His  sting  was  just 
under  the  eye,  and  by  next  morning  that 
member  was  completely  closed  up  and  his 
entire  face  much  swollen. 

The  owner  of  the  house  returned  and  at 
once  made  complaint  to  our  captain,  who 
happened  to  be  right  at  hand,  that  the  men 
had  been  taking  his  honey.  "They  shall  be 
punished,  sir,"  the  captain  promptly  replied, 
and  suiting  his  action  to  his  word  immediately 
instructed  the  orderly  sergeant  to  call  out 
the  company  for  investigation.  Standing  be- 
fore the  company,  he  appealed  to  the  men  to 
act  honorably  in  the  matter  and  not  put 
him  to  the  trouble  of  interrogating  each  man. 
He  asked  all  who  had  taken  part  in  the  af- 


82 WAR  STORIES 

fair  to  step  out  and  take  their  punishment 
like  men.  Promptly  five  or  six  stepped  for- 
ward, among  them  my  friend,  Dasher.  An- 
nouncing their  punishment,  ten  days  extra 
guard  duty,  he  dismissed  the  company.  Now 
Dasher  was  known  by  everybody  in  the  com- 
pany to  be  a  model  soldier  in  every  respect, 
and  some  of  us  were  present  when  he  was 
stung  and  we  knew  he  didn't  have  anything 
to  do  with  taking  the  honey.  Of  course  we 
wanted  to  know  what  he  meant  by  stepping 
forward  as  one  of  the  guilty.  He  explained 
it  thus:  "You  see,  if  with  my  face  swollen 
by  a  bee  sting  I  had  not  pleaded  guilty,  the 
captain  and  others  would  probably  have 
thought  I  was  not  acting  honorably  in  fail- 
ing to  own  up  as  the  others  did,  so  I  just 
decided  to  take  the  punishment  rather  than 
create  that  kind  of  impression."  Rare  man 
he  was,  and  a  better  soldier  never  followed 
Lee. 

KILLED  BUT  NOT  DEAD 

i 

On  one  occasion  when  our  regiment  was 
trying  to  occupy  an  advanced  position  just 
beyond  an  open  space  through  which  the 
cannon  balls  and  shells  were  flying,  our  com- 
mander ordered  us  to  run  across  in  groups. 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  83 

Just  as  my  group  got  fairly  into  the  opening 
a  shell  exploded  right  at  the  head  of  the 
man  in  front  of  me.  He  was  knocked  down 
and  hurled  several  feet.  When  I  reached 
the  woods  on  the  other  side,  Lieutenant  Bliss, 
commanding  our  company  at  that  time,  ex- 
claimed in  surprise,  "Why,  Zettler,  I  was 
sure  that  it  was  you  that  shell  killed."  "No," 
I  replied,  "it  was  Jim  Carolan,  and  the  shell 
took  his  head  off  right  at  his  shoulders." 
While  we  were  still  speaking  of  the  occur- 
rence, Jim  ran  into  the  midst  of  us,  his  face 
so  blackened  by  the  powder  that  we  scarcely 
recognized  him.  The  concussion  had 
knocked  him  down,  but  fortunately  the  frag- 
ments of  the  shell  had  all  missed  him. 

TURNING  RIDICULE  INTO  A  COMPLIMENT 

Captain  Dunlap  Scott  of  our  regiment  had 
been  assigned  to  the  command  of  the  rear 
guard,  whose  duty  it  was  to  scour  the  woods 
to  the  right  and  left  of  the  marching  column 
on  a  retreat  to  pick  up  stragglers  and  for- 
agers. It  became  the  custom  of  the  boys, 
when  a  man  was  seen  sneaking  away  in  the 
woods  to  yell,  "Scott!  Scott!"  and  some- 
times when  the  captain  made  his  appearance 


84 WAR  STORIES 

in  the  camp  some  wag  would  put  his  face 
to  the  ground  and  yell,  "S-c-o-t-t!"  Imme- 
diately the  cry  would  be  taken  up  by  others, 
and  others,  until  it  traveled  entirely  through 
the  brigade. 

On  our  trip  from  Northern  Virginia,  in 
the  spring  of  1862,  to  the  Peninsula,  we 
passed  through  Richmond.  Captain  Scott  had 
been  absent  on  sick  leave.  As  we  marched 
down  Main  Street  he  walked  out  of  the 
Spotswood  Hotel.  Immediately  some  one 
yelled  "S-c-o-t-t!"  and  the  marching  column 
took  it  up.  The  merchants  ran  to  their  doors 
to  see  what  was  the  matter,  and  some  even 
came  out  into  the  street  to  inquire  who  was 
General  Scott  that  the  men  were  cheering 
so  loudly.  Captain  Scott,  when  the  yelling 
began,  coolly  stepped  upon  the  carriage 
stone  in  front  of  the  hotel  and  stood  with 
bared  head,  waving  his  hat  and  smiling  as 
if  returning  thanks  for  a  compliment  the 
soldiers  were  paying  him. 

It  was  the  first  afternoon,  I  think,  of  our 
arrival  on  the  Peninsula,  in  March,  1862,  to 
reinforce  Magruder,  who  was  holding  Mc- 
Clellan  in  check.  Through  a  dense  smoke 
from  burning  woods  we  were  moved  into 
a  hummock  that  was  being  vigorously  shelled. 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  85 

Limbs  and  tree  tops  were  falling  about  us 
and  shells  bursting  overhead.  It  became 
so  "hot"  that  Colonel  Lamar  remarked, 
"They  are  shooting  as  if  they  know  we  are 
here;  break  ranks  and  take  care  of  your- 
selves behind  the  trees."  We  did  so  very 
promptly.  There  was  some  desultory  shoot- 
ing just  ahead  of  us,  as  if  pickets  were  ex- 
changing shots.  Presently  the  cannonading 
ceased  and  all  was  quiet  except  the  occa- 
sional crack  of  a  rifle.  Suddenly  there  was 
a  shout,  a  sort  of  "Hoo-raw,"  such  as  the 
Yankees  sometimes  made  when  about  to 
charge,  followed  immediately  by  a  volley 
of  musketry — all  seemingly  not  more  than 
a  hundred  yards  in  our  front.  We  rushed 
into  line  and  were  ordered  to  lie  down. 
Then  we  heard  a  noise  as  if  ten  thousand 
Texas  steers  were  coming  toward  us.  And 
now,  bursting  upon  us,  came  a  mob  of 
panicky  soldiers — Confederates.  They  were 
without  guns;  some  had  spades  in  their  hands, 
and  others  a  cartridge  box  or  a  coat.  They 
were  looking  in  the  tree  tops  and  their  eye- 
balls were  as  large  as  tea-cups.  The  toe 
of  one  fellow  struck  my  head  and  he  fell 
between  me  and  the  next  man  in  line.  As 
soon  as  he  struck  the  ground  he  began  wildly 


86 WAR  STORIES 

to  ask,  "Is  this  Company  E?  Is  this  Com- 
pany E?"  "No,  you  fool!"  my  comrade 
said.  The  man  was  on  his  feet  at  once  and, 
tearing  away  the  bushes,  continued  his  wild 
flight  to  the  rear. 

"Attention,  forward!"  came  from  our 
colonel.  We  rushed  forward  and  entered  a 
somewhat  open  space  and,  there  before  us, 
not  fifty  yards  distant  was  what  seemed  to 
be  about  two  companies  of  Yankees  stand- 
ing in  line  with  their  backs  to  us.  We  fired 
and  rushed  ahead  with  a  yell,  loading  and 
shooting  as  we  ran.  It  was  now  the  Yankees' 
turn  for  a  stampede,  and,  every  man  for 
himself,  they  skedaddled.  We  followed  them 
into  the  pond,  but  the  water  seemed  to  stretch 
out  beyond  sight  in  front  of  us.  The  Yan- 
kees were  in  up  to  their  waists  and  some 
of  our  boys  did  not  stop  until  they  got  in 
as  deep.  Then  we  dropped  back  to  a  shallow 
ditch  at  the  edge  of  the  water  and  were 
ordered  to  "get  down."  We  had  scarcely 
gotten  into  the  ditch  when  the  cannons  opened 
on  the  other  side  of  the  swamp,  making  it 
necessary  for  us  to  keep  well  down  in  the 
ditch,  and  for  an  hour  they  made  it  very 
uncomfortable  for  us.  That  portion  of  the 
ditch  where  I  was  had  not  less  than  fifteen 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  87 

inches  of  water  in  it,  but  it  was  safe,  so 
we  held  our  places  without  murmuring  until 
the  firing  ceased,  then  we  crawled  out  and 
stretched  off  on  the  ground  for  a  good  night's 
rest. 

This  affair,  as  I  afterward  gathered  it 
from  various  sources,  was  this:  A  North 
Carolina  regiment  was  holding  the  position 
along  this  swamp  and  creek  with  a  dam 
across  the  stream,  causing  the  overflow  of 
the  hummocks  and  swamp  above.  The  regi- 
ment was  engaged  in  throwing  up  a  line 
of  breastworks,  their  guns  being  stacked  in 
the  rear,  with  their  accouterments  and 
jackets  hung  on  them.  A  few  pickets  were 
down  at  the  edge  of  the  water.  The  Yankees 
on  the  opposite  side,  learning  the  situation, 
resolved  to  wade  through  without  firing  and 
surprise  and  stampede  the  force  at  work  on 
the  entrenchment  and  cut  the  dam.  One  of 
the  wounded  Yankees  told  me  it  was  four 
companies  of  a  Vermont  regiment,  the 
Third,  I  think,  that  undertook  the  venture, 
and  he  said  they  were  to  be  handsomely 
rewarded  if  they  succeeded.  He  said  also 
that  they  were  told  there  were  no  other  Con- 
federate troops  near,  "for  the  woods  in  the 
rear  had  been  shelled  till  a  rat  couldn't  stay 


WAR  STORIES 


in  them."  He  pluckily  declared,  too,  that 
if  we  hadn't  been  there  they  would  have  suc- 
ceeded. And  it  did  look  that  way,  but  that 
little  if  spoiled  it. 

It  is  thought  by  many  if  Albert  Sidney 
Johnston  had  not  received  a  mortal  wound 
at  a  critical  moment  in  the  Battle  of  Shiloh 
or  Pittsburg  Landing,  General  Grant  would 
never  have  been  heard  of  after  that  battle; 
and  a  still  greater  number  believe  that  if  the 
accidental  shooting  of  Stonewall  Jackson  by 
his  own  men  at  Chancellorsville  had  not  oc- 
curred, Hooker's  army  would  have  suffered 
a  more  disastrous  defeat  than  McDowell 
sustained  at  Manassas,  and  the  battle  of 
Gettysburg,  if  fought  at  all,  would  have  been 
a  Confederate  victory  and  resulted  in  the  es- 
tablishment of  the  Confederate  Govern- 
ment— all   changed   by  that   little   word   if. 

THE  COOK-SQUAD,  A  DESIRABLE  DETAIL 

While  McClellan  was  extending  his  lines 
around  Richmond  in  the  summer  of  1862, 
and  General  Lee  was  planning  to  "Lift  him 
out  of  his  boots,"  as  we  know  he  did  in  the 
memorable  Seven  Days'  Battles,  our  regi- 
ment  was    doing    picket    duty   just   beyond 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  89 

Price's  farm  near  the  Nine  Mile  Road  and 
only  about  five  miles  from  the  city.  The 
picket  lines  were  too  near  for  fires  and  cook- 
ing, and  with  my  messmate,  Bill  Dasher,  I 
had  the  good  luck  to  be  detailed  on  the  cook 
squad  to  prepare  rations  and  bring  them  to 
the  company  each  day.  We  usually  got  up 
each  morning  at  daylight,  started  the  log 
heap  fire  and  put  on  the  camp  kettles  to  boil 
the  chunks  of  beef,  each  piece  about  three- 
fourths  of  a  pound  in  weight,  and  got  the 
"spiders"  ready  to  bake  the  thirty-five  or 
forty  hoe  cakes  (one  for  each  man).  By 
eight  o'clock  we  were  on  our  way  to  the 
picket  line  with  our  camp  kettles,  filled  with 
meat  and  bread,  swung  on  a  pole  between 
us.  After  distributing  the  rations  we  re- 
turned to  the  cook  camp  and  spent  the  af- 
ternoon in  reading  such  books  or  papers  as 
we  could  get  hold  of  or  in  playing  cards  or 
shooting  marbles.  Our  readers  will  readily 
understand  now  why  the  cook  squad  appoint- 
ment was  considered  a  lucky  detail.  There 
was  no  standing  guard;  no  picket  duty  for 
them. 

Our  camp  being,  as  I  have  said,  only  about 
five  miles  from  Richmond,  it  was  very  natural 
for  the  boys  to  slip  away  and  spend  the  even- 


90 WAR  STORIES 

ing  in  the  city.  To  prevent  this,  sentinel 
posts  had  been  established  at  three  or  four 
places  on  all  the  roads  leading  into  the  city. 
But  the  boys  soon  learned  to  "run  the  block- 
ade." I  proposed  to  Dasher  that  we  try  it 
one  evening.  He  assented  and,  getting  the 
necessary  points  about  the  location  of  the 
sentinel  posts  from  the  boys  who  had  been 
in,  we  set  out  about  sunset.  We  made  a 
successful  "run,"  and  in  about  two  hours 
were  at  the  front  door  of  our  friend,  Mr. 
W.  W.  Yarrington,  whom  I  mentioned  in 
a  previous  chapter.  The  family  were  de- 
lighted to  see  us  again  and  Mrs.  Yarrington 
and  her  niece,  Miss  Josie  Sharpe,  insisted 
on  giving  us  a  square  home-cooked  supper. 
We  yielded.  Then  they  filled  our  haver- 
sacks with  all  sorts  of  good  things  and, 
learning  that  we  had  time  to  read,  included 
several  magazines.  The  hours  flew  quickly, 
and  soon  it  was  time  for  retiring.  We  told 
them  that  our  duties  required  us  to  be  back 
at  the  camp  by  sunrise  and  we  must  leave  the 
city  by  dawn.  Mr.  Yarrington  showed  us 
how  to  use  the  night  latch  to  get  out  and 
then  conducted  us  to  our  room.  When  we 
looked  at  the  snowy  sheets  and  pillow  slips, 
we   decided   they  were   too  nice   for  us,   so 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  91 

we  stretched  off  on  the  floor  and  were  soon 
asleep.  We  woke  at  daylight  and  started 
for  camp. 

We  had  learned  that  the  sentinels  along 
the  road  were  instructed  to  stop  no  soldiers 
going  out  of  the  city  to  their  commands,  so 
we  had  no  fear  of  being  arrested  and  kept 
the  road.  When  we  had  gone  about  two 
miles  we  discovered  that  we  were  not  in 
the  right  road,  so  we  concluded  to  pass 
through  a  skirt  of  woods  to  the  road  farther 
east,  which  we  were  told  was  the  "Nine 
Mile  Road" — our  road.  As  we  emerged 
from  the  woods  a  soldier  rose  out  of  the 
grass  and,  leveling  his  "smoothbore"  at  us, 
called  out,  "Halt  there!"  He  came  up  to 
us  and  said,  "Running  the  blockade,  eh?" 
"By  no  means,"  I  replied,  "we  are  on  our 
way  to  camp."  "What  you  doing  off  the 
road  if  you're  going  to  camp?"  We  showed 
him  our  haversacks  filled  with  city  cooked 
things,  bread  and  ham  and  cakes,  and  our 
magazines,  but  they  failed  to  convince  him. 
He  was  as  proud  of  his  prisoners  as  a  coun- 
try urchin  of  his  first  bluejay  and  he  marched 
us  to  the  sergeant  at  the  road.  I  think  the 
sergeant  was  satisfied  that  we  were,  this 
time,  on  our  way  out,  but  he  probably  sus- 


92 WAR  STORIES 

pected  that  we  might  have  "run  the  blockade" 
going  in.  So  he  thought  it  best  to  send  us 
to  our  colonel,  and  our  captor  was  told  to 
take  us  to  him.  On  the  way  we  repeated 
our  story  and  explained  how  we  came  to  be 
in  that  woods,  and  we  assured  him  that  our 
colonel  would  not  do  a  thing  to  us  and  he 
would  have  his  long  walk  for  nothing.  We 
asked  him  to  sit  down  and  rest  while  we  went 
to  the  spring  for  a  drink  of  water.  But 
nothing  would  move  him  from  his  purpose. 
He  was  a  "new  issue,"  as  we  called  the  sol- 
diers who  enlisted  the  second  year  of  the 
war,  and  had  just  come  from  the  coast  near 
Savannah.  He  was  yet  "fresh,"  and  under 
the  impression  that  a  soldier  must  always 
obey  orders  and  never  "look  the  other  way" 
when  he  had  a  comrade  a  prisoner. 

When  we  came  in  sight  of  the  colonel's 
tent-fly  I  said,  "See  that  man  yonder  in  his 
shirt  sleeves ;  he  is  our  colonel."  He  had  prob- 
ably never  seen  an  officer  without  his  coat, 
and  seemed  not  inclined  to  believe  me,  but 
we  were  soon  in  the  colonel's  presence. 
"Good-morning,  Colonel!"  we  said,  "here  is 
a  Richmond  Dispatch,  and  see  what  our 
Richmond  friends  gave  us  on  our  way  to 
camp,"  at  the  same  time  covering  his  camp 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  93 

chest  with  the  best  in  our  haversacks.  "Yes, 
yes,  yes,  boys!  those  Richmond  ladies  are 
the  finest  in  the  world.  We  must  not  let 
the  Yankees  take  Richmond,  boys,  never, 
never!"  "But,  colonel,  we  are  prisoners. 
This  man  arrested  us  on  our  way  out  and 
insisted  on  bringing  us  to  our  colonel." 
"Ah,"  said  he,  looking  at  our  captor,  "and 
were  you  instructed  to  bring  them  to  their 
colonel?  Well,  I'm  Colonel  Lamar  of  the 
Eighth  Georgia  Regiment,  and  these  are  my 
men,  so  you  have  done  your  duty.  You  may 
go."  "On  the  cook  squad,  boys?"  address- 
ing us.     "I  see!  then  you  may  go  too." 

We  concluded  to  give  our  "new  issue"  a 
point  or  two,  and  went  after  him.  "Say, 
here,  you  mosquito-fighter,  we  are  two  and 
you  are  one;  you  are  our  prisoner  now,  and 
we  intend  to  initiate  you.  Yes,  sir,  when 
we  get  through  with  you  you'll  know  a  thing 
or  two."  He  was  thoroughly  "scared  up" 
and  pleaded  with  us  not  to  hurt  him.  But 
we  assured  him  it  was  necessary  for  him  to 
go  "through  a  course."  The  tears  gathered 
in  his  eyes,  and  he  declared  if  we  would 
just  "post"  him  about  the  ways  of  old  sol- 
diers he  would  always  hereafter  try  to  fol- 
low them.     Being  satisfied  that  he  was  thor- 


94 WAR  STORIES _ 

oughly  repentant,  we  agreed  to  let  him  oft 
this  time  and  allowed  him  to  go.  "Say,  boys," 
he  said,  as  he  started,  "are  all  the  colonels 
out  here  like  yourn?"  We  answered  "Not 
quite,"  which  was  true,  for  Lamar  was  one 
of  the  handsomest  officers  in  Lee's  army, 
and  as  clever  and  brave  as  he  was  handsome, 
and  he  was  the  idol  of  his  regiment. 

THE   DROP    FROM   A    CHERRY   TREE 

Early  in  the  war  scouts  and  pickets  got 
to  resorting  to  all  sorts  of  projects  for  ob- 
taining information  about  things  in  front. 
One  of  these  was  climbing  into  the  top  of 
a  tree.  The  other  fellows,  however,  soon 
found  this  out,  and  it  got  to  be  a  dangerous 
venture,  for  with  field-glasses  they  would 
locate  you  and  send  a  rifle  ball  into  the  tree 
top,  and  sometimes  they  would  even  use  a 
small  rifled  cannon  to  bring  down  the  man 
in  the  tree. 

On  one  occasion  when  I  was  away  from 
the  company  for  a  few  days  on  a  special 
detail,  it  changed  position,  and  in  reaching 
the  company  I  passed  under  a  large  cherry 
tree  that  had  quantities  of  cherries  on  it. 
I  asked  the  boys  why  they  did  not  get  them. 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN 


"The  Yankees  object,"  they  replied.  "They 
seem  to  keep  a  watch  on  that  tree  and  shoot 
into  it  if  they  see  the  leaves  shake."  "Non- 
sense," I  said,  "they  can't  see  anyone  among 
the  leaves  in  that  tree."  "Try  it  if  you  want 
to  test  the  matter,"  they  said,  and  I  pro- 
ceeded to  do  so.  When  I  got  up  about  ten 
feet  from  the  ground,  I  looked  over  the  hill 
and,  sure  enough,  there  were  two  or  three 
Yankees  standing  at  a  cannon  seemingly  less 
than  three  hundred  yards  distant.  I  stood 
on  a  limb  and  reached  my  hand  up  among 
the  cherries,  keeping  my  eyes  fixed,  however, 
on  the  cannon.  There  was  a  flash.  I  let 
my  feet  go  from  under  me  and  struck  the 
ground  just  as  the  ball  whisked  through  the 
tree  where  I  had  been  standing.  I  con- 
cluded, like  the  fox  with  the  grapes,  that 
those  cherries  were  no  good  anyway  and  I 
did  not  want  them. 

While  the  army  was  in  front  of  Richmond, 
previous  to  the  Seven  Days'  Battles,  we  re- 
ceived a  payment  from  the  Government  of 
twenty  dollars  as  a  bounty  or  for  service. 
Many  of  the  men  at  once  began  to  gamble 
with  their  money.  One  day  a  party  of  them 
was  having  an  unusually  interesting  game. 
They  were  sitting  on  the  ground  just  under 


96  WAR  STORIES 

the  brow  of  the  hill;  the  cards  and  "chips" 
and  "pot"  were  on  a  few  pieces  of  boards 
on  the  ground  in  front  of  them.  A  number 
of  us  were  standing  over  them  anxious  to 
see  who  would  rake  in  the  "pot."  We  for- 
got, for  the  moment,  that  in  standing  up  at 
that  particular  place  we  could  be  seen  by 
the  Yankees  at  a  small  sand  fort  just  across 
the  hill.  Suddenly  there  was  the  report  of 
a  cannon  and  at  the  same  moment  a  ball 
tore  through  the  apple  tree  just  above  our 
heads.  We  dropped  down  on  the  players 
and  they  in  turn  tumbled  over  one  another, 
scattering  in  every  direction  the  grains  of 
corn  that  represented  "chips"  and  constituted 
the  "pot."  An  ill  shot,  we  might  say,  that 
did  somebody  good. 

LEE  TO  PUT  ARMY  IN  REAR  OF  POPE 

It  was  the  latter  part  of  August,  1862. 
Stonewall  Jackson  had  gone  to  the  rear  of 
Pope,  seized  his  supplies  at  Manassas  Junc- 
tion and  cut  the  telegraph  wires  between  him 
and  Washington  city.  (Read  in  the  Records 
of  the  Federal  and  Confederate  armies,  pub- 
lished by  the  United  States  Congress,  of  the 
telegraphic  messages  passing  between  Stan- 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  97 

ton  and  Pope  at  the  time  Jackson  was  cut- 
ting the  wires.  They  will  make  you  laugh.) 
Pope  it  seems  was  puzzled  as  to  the  where- 
abouts of  Lee,  and  even  thought  for  awhile 
that  the  trouble  in  his  rear  was  only  the 
work  of  a  band  of  cavalry  raiders.  A  few 
days  after  Jackson  started  on  this  flank 
movement,  Lee  took  most  of  Longstreet's 
corps  from  Pope's  front,  at  Rappahannock 
Station,  and,  going  up  the  Rappahannock 
River  ten  or  fifteen  miles,  crossed  over  and 
was  proceeding  down  the  turnpike  west  of 
Bull  Run  mountains,  with  a  view  doubtless 
of  forming  a  junction  with  Jackson  on  Pope's 
flank  or  in  his  rear. 

It  was  Thursday,  the  28th  of  August,  and 
one  of  the  hottest  days  I  ever  experienced, 
that  we  were  making  this  rapid  march.  I 
learned  afterward  that  we  were  hastening 
to  get  through  Thoroughfare  Gap  and  to 
the  east  side  of  this  little  range  of  mountains 
before  Pope  should  discover  the  movement. 

Tige  Anderson's  brigade  formed  the  head 
of  the  column  that  day,  with  the  Eighth 
Georgia  in  the  lead.  The  position  of  the 
Oglethorpes — Company  B  of  the  regiment — 
put  us  very  near  the  front.  During  most 
of  the  morning  General  Lee   and   General 


98 WAR  STORIES 

Longstreet  rode  side  by  side  just  ahead  of 
us,  and  once  in  crossing  a  little  stream  they 
stopped  to  let  their  horses  drink  while  we 
continued  on  up  the  hill.  Presently  they  rode 
by  and  on  to  the  front.  General  Lee  passed 
close  enough  for  me  to  have  put  my  hand 
on  "Traveller."  I  looked  up  into  Gen- 
eral Lee's  face  as  he  passed  me.  It  was 
the  closest  view  I  ever  had  of  him.  His 
appearance  was  exactly  as  he  looks  in  all 
the  pictures  of  him,  especially  the  one  that 
is  printed  with  the  engraved  copy  of  his  fare- 
well address  to  the  army  at  Appomattox, 
a  picture  that  hangs  on  thousands  of  walls  in 
houses  and  halls  and  business  offices  through- 
out the  South. 

About  one  o'clock  we  came  to  a  halt  in 
the  broiling  sun  on  the  turnpike.  It  was 
said  some  of  the  artillery  horses  were  giv- 
ing out  from  the  heat  and  it  was  necessary 
to  halt  the  column  to  let  them  rest. 

A    VERY    SMALL    INCIDENT    AFFECTS    A    BIG 
EVENT 

Two  or  three  men  in  the  front  of  the  regi- 
ment concluded  they  would  go  ahead  to  try 
to  get  some  buttermilk,  or  something  to  eat 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN  99 

from  one  of  those  dear  Virginia  housewives 
who  seemed  always  able  to  find  something 
for  a  hungry  Confederate.  Presently  they 
came  running  back  almost  out  of  breath,  and 
without  their  guns.  They  reported  that  in 
a  village  half  a  mile  down  the  road  some 
Yankee  cavalry  came  on  them,  and  after 
learning  that  they  belonged  to  Longstreet's 
corps  of  Lee's  army  and  that  it  was  only  a 
half  mile  away,  broke  their  gunstocks 
against  the  trees,  and  turned  them  loose. 
Of  course  the  information  they  ob- 
tained was  far  more  important  than  caring 
for  two  or  three  prisoners,  and  they  doubt- 
less made  rapid  time  getting  the  news  to 
Pope. 

The  men  were  sent  to  General  Lee,  who 
was  only  a  few  steps  away,  and  soon  the 
column  was  again  under  way.  But  now  we 
marched  slowly,  for  a  while,  with  a  strong 
skirmish  line  in  front.  After  passing  through 
the  village  we  quickened  our  steps,  and  were 
soon  in  sight  of  the  Gap,  eight  or  ten  miles 
away.  Just  before  sunset  we  reached  it,  but 
in  the  open  space  beyond  we  saw  a  Yankee 
battery  in  position,  and  in  a  few  moments 
the  shells  began  bursting  in  our  midst. 

We  filed  to  the  left  along  the  foot  of  the 


ioo WAR  STORIES 

mountain  and  were  halted.  In  a  few  minutes 
orders  came  that  skirmishers  must  be  sent  up 
on  the  mountain  to  ascertain  if  it  was  occu- 
pied by  the  enemy.  Companies  A  and  B  of 
the  Eighth  Georgia  were  ordered  forward 
and  deployed.  There  were  just  thirty  of  us 
in  the  two  companies. 

CLIMBING  THE  MOUNTAIN  AS  SKIRMISHERS 

I  shall  digress  here  to  say  that  there  are 
both  advantages  and  disadvantages  in  being 
at  the  head  of  the  column  in  a  march.  Those 
in  front  are  the  first  to  get  to  the  clear  stream 
or  a  well  or  the  tubs  and  cans  of  water  that 
in  the  early  days  of  the  war  families  at  houses 
we  passed  would  set  out  on  the  roadside  for 
us.  They  were  out  of  the  dust,  also,  and 
were  the  first  to  throw  off  accouterments  and 
coats  at  the  camping-place.  But  sometimes, 
as  in  the  present  instance,  the  way  must  be 
cleared,  which  means  a  fight. 

When  the  order  came  for  the  two  com- 
panies I  have  mentioned  to  deploy  and  ad- 
vance, I  was  standing  in  front  of  a  cluster  of 
vines  and  briers  well-nigh  impenetrable;  but 
soldiers  must  know  no  obstacles,  so  I  plunged 
into   the  brush   and  briers.     The  mountain 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN         101 

side  was  covered  with  a  thick  undergrowth 
of  low  cedars  and  vines,  and  in  some  places 
huge  masses  of  rock  had  broken  loose  and 
tumbled  down,  not  only  forming  a  very  for- 
midable barrier,  but  leaving  a  perpendicular 
wall  of  five  or  six  feet  that  was  very  difficult 
to  scale.  But  we  clambered  up,  stopping 
every  few  steps  to  take  breath  and  listen  for 
movements  or  noises  above  us  that  would 
help  us  to  know  who  were  in  our  front.  Pres- 
ently I  heard  a  jingling  of  canteens  in  the 
bushes  just  above  me,  and  almost  at  the  same 
moment  the  man  with  them  exclaimed, 
"Who's  down  there?"  Stephen  Baldy,  the 
comrade  four  or  five  steps  to  my  left,  threw 
up  his  gun  with  his  finger  on  the  trigger.  I 
said,  in  a  low  tone,  "Don't  shoot;  it  may  be 
one  of  our  men."  He  replied,  "No,  I  see 
him;  it's  a  Yankee."  Then  the  man  spoke 
again,  "Say,  is  that  Company  A?"  "What 
regiment?"  said  Baldy,  his  finger  still  on  the 
trigger.  "Eleventh  Massachusetts."  Baldy 
fired.  Now  you  want  to  ask,  as  others  have 
done  to  whom  I  have  told  this  story,  "Did  he 
kill  the  man?"  I  don't  know,  for  right  be- 
tween me  and  where  the  man  was,  a  line  of 
men  in  blue  rose,  and  as  their  bright  guns 
dropped  down  toward  me  I  looked  into  their 


102  WAR  STORIES 

muzzles  a  moment — a  very  short  moment — 
and  went  over  backward.  I  heard  a  volley, 
but  I  was  tumbling,  rolling,  jumping,  falling, 
and  had  no  time  or  inclination  to  look  behind 
me.  When  I  reached  the  bottom,  General 
Tige  Anderson,  our  brigade  commander,  was 
right  there,  and  inquired  what  I  knew.  I 
told  him  I  saw  a  regiment  of  Yankees.  "Only 
a  regiment?"  said  he.  "That's  all  I  had  time 
to  see,"  I  replied.  "You  were  frightened  to 
death,  and  don't  know  what  you  saw,"  he 
said.  I  made  no  reply,  but  I  knew  I  was  not 
dead  quite.  Another  man  pulled  himself 
through  the  briers  and,  on  being  questioned, 
gave  the  same  information.  Then  Lieuten- 
ant Howard,  who  had  charge  of  us,  came 
up.  "What's  the  force  up  there,  lieutenant?" 
said  Anderson.      "Well,   General,  we  came 

upon    them    very    unexpectedly,     and " 

"Yes,  and  they  stampeded  you  like  they  did 
the  boys;  so  you  know  nothing.  Get  your 
men  together,  sir,  and  go  back  and  stay 
there  until  you  know  something  definite."  Of 
course  there  was  but  one  answer  to  such  an 
order,  and  so  Lieutenant  Howard  began  to 
line  up  the  men  for  another  advance. 

Now  the  man  with  the  canteens  had  prob- 
ably been  allowed  by  his  commander  to  take 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         103 

a  number  of  them  from  the  men  and  fill  them 
at  a  spring  or  branch,  and  on  his  return  he 
had  lost  his  bearings  and,  hearing  us,  thought 
we  were  Company  A,  Eleventh  Massachu- 
setts, for  which  he  was  looking.  It  was  a 
very  common  thing  for  an  officer  to  let  one 
man  go  to  fill  canteens  while  we  were  in  line 
of  battle. 

Well,  of  the  thirty  men  who  went  up  the 
mountain,  twenty-nine  soon  reported,  and  we 
started  again.  The  thirtieth  one,  Jim  Caro- 
lan,  of  Company  B,  had  been  killed  by  that 
volley.  Poor  fellow!  He  had  once  before 
been  counted  dead  by  me, — when  the  shell 
exploded  at  his  head,— but  this  time  a  rifle 
ball  had  entered  his  heart,  and  there  was  no 
mistaking  its  effect.  But  in  the  skirmish  line, 
like  on  the  lonely  picket  post,  "a  man  or  two 
killed  doesn't  count  in  the  news  of  the  battle." 

Slowly,  cautiously,  we  crept  through  and 
around  the  cedars  and  vines,  each  one  wishing 
that  somebody  else  would  come  first  on  those 
Yankees  waiting  for  us.  When  near  the 
place  where  we  encountered  them  before, 
there  was  a  sharp  report  of  a  rifle  a  few 
yards  to  my  right.  Immediately  the  line  of 
men  in  blue  rose  up  just  above  me.  I  dropped 
to  the  earth.     Luckily  a  rock  as  large  as  a 


104  WAR  STORIES 

flour  barrel  jutted  out  right  in  front  of  me. 
The  regiment  fired  over  my  head.  They 
dropped  down,  and  another  just  above  them 
rose  and  fired  and  dropped;  a  third,  and  a 
fourth,  and  a  fifth  did  the  same  thing  in 
quick  succession.  The  last  one  was  some 
distance  up  the  mountain  and  their  balls 
struck  all  around  me.  With  that  volley  the 
firing  ceased.  I  thought  I  knew  "something 
definite,"  and  heels  over  head  I  went  down 
the  hill.  Several  had  made  better  time  than 
I  did  and  had  rendered  their  reports.  In 
answer  to  General  Anderson's  questions,  I 
told  what  I  saw  and  how  I  came  to  see  what 
I  reported.  He  calmly  said,  "You  seem  to 
know  something,"  and  turned  to  the  next 
man.  Then  he  sent  a  courier  to  General 
Longstreet,  to  inform  him  of  the  force  on 
the  mountain. 

BLUFFING  THE  MASSACHUSETTS  BOYS  AT 
THOROUGHFARE  GAP 

In  a  few  minutes  an  officer  galloped  up 
and,  saluting,  said,  "General  Longstreet's 
compliments,  General,  and  he  directs  that 
you  make  an  assault  at  once,  that  you'll  be 
supported  by  his  entire  corps,  and  General 
Wilcox  will  assault  in  the  rear." 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         105 

Immediately  the  Eighth  and  the  First  regi- 
ments were  ordered  to  advance.  "My 
Heavens!"  I  exclaimed,  "does  he  expect  two 
little  regiments  to  assault  five!"  "He's  a 
fool,"  someone  said.  But  in  a  few  minutes 
we  were  climbing  up  the  mountain.  Then, 
as  if  by  preconcerted  agreement,  every  man 
began  giving  orders  in  a  loud  tone.  "Hold 
back  your  men  there,  captain!"  "You  boys 
there,  go  slow;  wait  for  the  flankers  to  get 
behind  them!"  "Hold  on,  men,  you'll  scare 
them  off  the  mountain !"  It  was  getting  dark, 
and  I  imagine  the  three  hundred  of  us  going 
up  through  the  bushes  all  giving  orders  in 
loud  tones  made  the  Massachusetts  boys 
think  there  were  several  thousand  of  us.  At 
any  rate,  when  we  reached  the  top  and  rushed 
forward  with  a  yell,  expecting  a  volley  in  our 
faces,  there  was  not  a  man  before  us.  I  heard 
afterward  that  there  was  some  fighting  to 
our  right  by  the  First  Georgia  and,  possibly, 
other  troops,  but  in  battle  a  man  cannot  know 
of  his  own  knowledge  what  is  taking  place 
to  his  right  or  left:  and  so  I  do  not  know 
whether  the  First  Georgia  fared  as  well  as 
we  did  or  not.  This  I  know,  that  I  saw  but 
one  dead  Yankee,  an  officer  lying  about  half- 
way down  the  mountain  on  the  east  side. 


io6 WAR  STORIES 

Soon  word  came  to  us  that  General  Long- 
street  said  of  our  assault:  "It  was  the  hand- 
somest thing  done  since  the  war  started," 
and  that  we  could  sleep  on  the  mountain  and 
come  on  next  day;  the  rest  of  his  corps  would 
pass  through  the  Gap  that  night.  Some  of 
the  boys  went  to  hunt  dead  Yankees,  to  try 
to  get  some  coffee  from  their  haversacks,  but 
they  reported  that  they  could  find  but  one, — 
the  officer  mentioned  above. 

I  have  always  wanted  to  meet  a  veteran  of 
the  "Eleventh  Massachusetts"  to  find  out  ex- 
actly why  they  gave  up  their  strong  position 
at  Thoroughfare  Gap  that  evening,  the  28th 
of  August,  1862.    I  think  we  "bluffed"  them. 

HOW  I   RECEIVED  MY   WOUND 

I  have  so  often  been  asked  to  tell  in  detail 
the  circumstances  under  which  I  received  my 
wound  and  the  incidents  immediately  follow- 
ing it,  I  have  concluded  that  since  I  am  giving 
personal  incidents,  with  myself  usually  as  the 
hero,  I  will  include  this  one  among  my  stories. 

Near  sunset  on  the  30th  day  of  August, 
1862, — the  day  on  which  Lee  defeated  Pope 
in  the  big  battle  of  Second  Manassas, — our 
division  commander,  General  Hood,  threw 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         107 

his  division  into  line  for  a  final  charge  against 
what  I  afterward  learned  was  a  collection 
of  twelve  pieces  of  artillery.  Once,  while  the 
line  was  moving  at  a  double-quick  over  hills 
and  valleys,  General  Hood  came  at  a  full 
gallop  down  the  line,  now  in  rear,  now  in 
front.  As  he  passed  the  right  of  the  Eighth 
Georgia  I  heard  him  say,  "Go  it,  boys,  we'll 
give  them  more  than  they  can  attend  to!" 
Presently  up  the  line  came  the  command,  re- 
peated from  one  to  another:  "Division,  left 
wheel!  Division,  left  wheel!"  Our  regi- 
ment was,  I  think,  the  extreme  right  of  the 
division,  and  the  "wheel"  brought  us  quickly 
on  the  flank  or  side  of  the  cannons  and  within 
range  of  their  infantry  support.  There  was 
a  moment's  pause  of  the  regiment,  probably 
to  re-align  before  rushing  on  the  guns.  Just 
then  some  of  the  guns  changed  the  direction 
of  their  fire  from  front  to  side,  and  the  first 
ball  they  sent  went  ricocheting  along  the  rear 
of  the  regiment.  (We  were  still  facing  the 
infantry  support  and  somewhat  in  rear  of  the 
cannons.)  The  second  ball  struck  the  ground 
a  few  steps  to  my  left,  rose  and  struck  me, 
tearing  away  a  pound  or  more  of  flesh  from 
the  underpart  of  my  left  thigh  six  inches 
above  the  knee  and  cutting  a  shallow  groove 


108  WAR  STORIES 

through  the  right,  the  right  foot  being  on 
the  swing  for  a  step  forward  at  the  moment. 
As  soon  as  I  struck  the  ground  two  or 
three  of  my  comrades  stooped  over  and  asked 
if  I  could  be  carried.  I  straightened  out 
my  legs  and,  finding  no  bones  broken,  replied, 
"Yes."  They  quickly  unrolled  my  india- 
rubber  cloth  that  I  was  carrying  instead  of  a 
blanket,  put  me  in  it  and  trotted  off  about 
twenty  steps  and  dropped  me  in  a  hillside 
gully.  They  then  ran  back  and  rejoined  the 
regiment.  Just  then  Wright's  Georgia  bri- 
gade swept  over  me,  going  somewhat  to  the 
right  of  our  position.  I  afterward  learned 
that  they  swept  the  Federal  infantry  from 
our  front,  and  our  regiment,  with  the  others 
of  the  division,  captured  the  entire  lot  of 
cannon, — twelve  pieces, — together  with  thirty 
new  ambulances  parked  in  the  woods  just 
behind  them. 

a  soldier's  selfishness  costs  his  life 

Not  more  than  fifteen  feet  above  me  and 
in  an  exposed  place  lay  a  man  who  had  been 
wounded.  The  cannon-balls  were  plowing 
up  the  ground  around  him,  and  it  seemed 
every  moment  he  would  be  torn  to  pieces. 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN         109 


Presently  a  soldier  came  running  and  dropped 
into  the  gully  between  us.  The  wounded 
man  immediately  appealed  to  him  to  pull  him 
down  where  he  was,  saying  he  had  both  legs 
broken  and  would  be  killed.  Just  then  a 
shell  exploded  right  at  him.     He  exclaimed, 

"My  God,  friend,  please "  but  he  never 

finished  the  sentence,  for  at  that  moment 
another  shell  exploded  right  at  his  friend, 
and  when  the  smoke  cleared  away  he  was  no- 
where to  be  seen.  Where  he  had  lain  was  a 
hole  big  enough  to  bury  a  mule  in.  He 
had  probably  been  blown  to  pieces.  I  think 
of  him  in  connection  with  the  Scripture, 
"Whosoever  will  save  his  life  shall  lose  it." 
With  that  shell  the  firing  ceased,  for  our  boys 
had  captured  the  guns,  and  there  was  no 
longer  any  danger  for  me  and  the  man  with 
the  broken  legs.  If  the  comrade  to  whom 
he  had  so  earnestly  appealed  had  gone  to  his 
relief,  he  would  have  saved  his  own  life; 
but  he  was  too  much  concerned  for  his  own 
safety  to  help  his  wounded  brother. 

It  was  probably  ten  o'clock  that  night  when 
we  were  found  by  the  "litter  bearers"  or  am- 
bulance corps.  They  put  me  on  a  stretcher 
and  carried  me  to  the  Robinson  House  and 
put  me  down  at  the  front  gate.     The  house 


no WAR  STORIES 

and  yard  were  said  to  be  full  of  wounded. 
Here  Jim  Sweat,  a  comrade,  came  to  me  say- 
ing that  another  of  our  company,  Stephen 
Baldy,  had  been  seriously  wounded,  and  Lieu- 
tenant Bliss,  in  command  of  our  company, 
had  instructed  him  to  stay  with  us  and  care 
for  us.  Sweat  was  a  weak,  frail  man  who 
rarely  held  out  on  a  long  march,  though 
there  was  no  pluckier  or  braver  soldier  in 
Lee's  army. 

While  I  was  lying  at  the  gate  three  sur- 
geons in  quick  succession  came  along  with 
their  lanterns  looking  among  the  wounded 
for  desperate  cases.  Each  one  gave  me  an 
opiate  of  some  kind,  and  I  was  going  off  into 
unconsciousness  when  the  third  one  thrust 
the  little  spoon  between  my  teeth 

I  came  to  myself  next  day,  Sunday,  about 
twelve  o'clock.     It  was  raining  quite  heavily. 

After  an  hour  or  two  an  ambulance  drove 
up  and  I  was  lifted  into  it.  Baldy  was  put 
in  by  my  side,  and  we  were  taken  about  a 
half  mile  to  a  farm  where  Dr.  Jackson,  our 
brigade  surgeon,  had  established  his  field  hos- 
pital. All  the  houses  on  the  place  seemed 
to  be  full,  so  we  were  put  into  two  cow 
stables  behind  the  barn. 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         in 

HAULING  THE  WOUNDED  TO  WARRENTON 

That  afternoon  Dr.  Jackson  and  two  or 
three  assistant  surgeons  came  together  near 
us  out  in  the  horse  lot,  and  I  heard  Dr.  Jack- 
son tell  Dr.  Jones,  the  assistant  surgeon  of 
the  Seventh  Georgia  Regiment,  that  he  was 
to  take  charge  of  the  wounded  and,  with  the 
few  ambulances  that  he  would  leave  him,  get 
them  to  Warrenton  as  rapidly  as  possible, 
encouraging  all  who  could  walk  to  set  out  on 
foot,  and  leaving  for  the  last  those  who 
would  probably  die  here  or  from  the  effects 
of  the  long  ride.  It  was  fourteen  miles,  he 
said,  to  Warrenton,  so  the  ambulances  could 
make  but  one  trip  each  day.  Thursday  morn- 
ing they  reached  the  barn  and  cleared  it  of 
wounded,  and  late  that  afternoon  an  ambu- 
lance backed  up  to  the  cow  stalls,  and  Baldy 
and  I  were  laid  side  by  side  in  it.  Night 
soon  came  on  and  it  began  to  rain,  but 
through  the  pitchy  darkness  the  mules  picked 
their  way  up  and  down  the  hills  and  brought 
us  to  Warrenton  about  eleven  o'clock. 

After  driving  over  the  town  to  the  court 
house  and  to  one  or  two  church  buildings,  our 
driver  finally  found  a  place  for  us  in  the  rail- 
road freight  warehouse.   The  floor  was  made 


ii2  WAR  STORIES 


of  white  oak  planks,  sawed,  I  am  sure,  with 
a  wabbling  saw,  for  through  my  indiarubber 
cloth,  that  I  was  still  lifted  about  in,  I  could 
feel  the  circular  ridges  on  them  as  though 
they  were  as  large  as  my  finger.  Rather  to 
my  surprise,  I  lived  through  the  night.  I 
had  lost  a  great  deal  of  blood  and  had  taken 
only  a  cup  or  two  of  milk  every  day. 

Friday  morning  Assistant  Surgeon  Jones 
came  to  me,  and  in  a  jollying  way  said 
we  boys  of  Company  B,  Eighth  Georgia, 
couldn't  be  killed ;  that  we  were  worth  saving, 
and  he  proposed  to  take  care  of  us.  About 
nine  o'clock  we  were  again  loaded  into  an 
ambulance  and  taken  to  the  Baptist  church 
and  each  put  on  a  mattress.  Comrade  Jim 
Sweat  had  a  tub  of  water  brought;  my  bloody 
clothes  were  taken  off  and  I  was  washed  and 
my  wound  dressed.  Then  Dr.  Jones  said, 
"Do  the  same  for  the  other  man" — Baldy — 
"and  I'll  see  if  there  is  a  sheet  in  this  town 
to  cover  this  man  with,"  and  he  left.  The 
boys  went  across  the  church  to  where  Baldy 
was,  but  Jim  came  back  at  once  and  quietly 
said,  "He  is  dead."  In  a  few  minutes  the 
doctor  returned  with  a  sheet,  and  laughing 
said,  "Now  you  are  all  right." 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN         113 


A  REBUKE  THAT  CAUSED  A  RETREAT 

The  wounded  from  the  Second  Battle  of 
Manassas,  of  whom  I  was  one,  had  been 
hauled  back  to  Warrenton  to  be  cared  for. 
They  had  been  put  into  the  churches,  the 
court  house,  the  schoolhouse,  and  other  public 
buildings,  and  many  were  in  private  houses. 
I  was  lying  on  a  mattress  on  the  floor  in  the 
"Amen"  corner  of  the  Baptist  church,  and 
Mrs.  Robert  J.  Newby,  a  good  lady  of  the 
place,  who,  with  others,  was  ministering  to 
our  needs,  was  sitting  on  the  steps  leading 
up  into  the  pulpit,  the  end  entrance  or 
"preacher's  door"  being  between  us.  A  body 
of  Yankee  cavalry  came  into  the  town  and  a 
party  of  them  galloped  up  to  the  door  at  the 
end  of  the  church.  An  officer  dismounted 
and,  running  up  to  the  door,  in  a  loud  voice 
called  for  the  officer  in  charge  of  the  hospital 
to  come  forward.  Nobody  came.  Again  he 
demanded  to  see  at  once  the  officer  in  charge. 
Still  nobody  responded.  Then  lowering  his 
voice,  he  asked  Mrs.  Newby  if  she  could  tell 
him  who  was  in  charge  of  the  building.  She 
replied,  "Probably  we  ladies  are  considered 
in  charge.  What  can  we  do  for  you?" 
"Have  you  a  list  of  the  men  on  this  floor?" 


ii4 WAR  STORIES 

he  said;  "I  wish  to  parole  them."  "You 
mean  to  make  prisoners  of  them,  sir?"  "Yes, 
ma'am,"  he  answered.  She  looked  into  his 
face  silently  for  a  moment,  then  calmly  said, 
"I  thought,  sir,  prisoners  were  captured  on 
battle-fields,  not  in  hospitals."  It  was  a  with- 
ering shot.  He  made  no  reply,  but  imme- 
diately withdrew  and,  mounting  his  horse, 
galloped  away. 

Never,  never,  can  the  whole  story  be  told 
of  what  the  mothers,  wives,  and  sisters  of 
the  boys  in  gray  did  for  them  and  the  cause 
of  the  Confederacy  during  those  four  years 
of  fighting,  and  sacrifice,  and  suffering.  A 
nobler  heritage  is  the  memory  of  their  deeds 
than  the  gold  of  a  millionaire  or  the  royal 
title  of  princes. 

DISTRESSED   FATHER    HUNTING   FOR    HIS   BOY 

A  week  after  the  Second  Battle  of  Ma- 
nassas, in  which  I  was  wounded,  father  set 
out  to  come  to  me.  In  Richmond  he  learned 
that  most  of  the  wounded  from  that  battle 
had  been  sent  back  to  Warrenton,  but  that 
the  railroad  had  only  been  repaired  within 
fifty  miles  of  the  place.  But  that  did  not 
deter  him.  He  reached  the  terminus  and  was 
informed  that  it  was  fifty-three  miles  by  the 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN         115 

turnpike  to  Warrenton.  There  was  no  such 
thing  as  hiring  a  team,  and  so  he  set  out  on 
foot,  with  a  party  of  others  on  the  same  mis- 
sion, hunting  for  their  sons  that  had  been 
wounded  in  that  battle.  They  made  a  con- 
tinuous trip  of  it,  except  a  rest  of  one  hour 
at  midnight,  and  walked  the  fifty-three  miles 
in  twenty-three  hours.  He  was  at  that  v.me 
sixty-four  years  old. 

When  he  reached  Warrenton  he  explained 
his  mission  to  the  first  man  he  met,  and  was 
told  that  it  was  said  there  were  eighteen  hun- 
dred wounded  men  in  the  place;  that  all  the 
churches,  the  court  house,  schoolhouse,  and 
railroad  warehouse  were  full,  and  there  were 
many  in  private  families. 

Father  said  he  never  realized  until  then 
what  it  meant  to  hunt  for  one  among  eighteen 
hundred.  "Are  there  any  in  that  building 
yonder?"  he  inquired,  pointing  to  a  near-by 
church.  "Yes,  sir,  it's  full.  You  see  a  man's 
head  on  the  floor  in  the  preacher's  door  right 
now."  "Then,"  said  father,  "I'll  begin  my 
search  right  here,  and  may  the  Lord  direct 
me." 

He  came  to  the  church,  to  the  preacher's 
door;  he  came  up  the  steps,  and  the  man 
whose  head  was  lying  in  the  door  was  his 


n6 WAR  STORIES 

boy.     It,  indeed,  must  be  true  that  the  Lord 
directed  him. 

At  the  surgeon's  suggestion  he  secured 
board  for  me  and  himself  with  a  family  in 
the  place,  and  had  me  removed  from  the 
church. 

RIDING   AT   A   DOLLAR  A   MILE 

When  father  had  been  with  me  four  weeks 
he  secured  a  three  months'  furlough  for  me, 
had  a  stretcher  with  legs  made  on  which  to 
take  me  home,  and  engaged  the  only  man 
in  the  town  who  had  a  team, — a  mule  and  a 
one-horse  wagon  without  springs, — to  take 
me  to  the  railroad  terminus.  His  charge  was 
a  dollar  a  mile  for  hauling  a  man  to  the  sta- 
tion, and,  he  added,  as  if  for  father's  com- 
fort, that  some  of  the  bridges  had  been  re- 
paired and  now  it  was  only  forty  miles  to 
the  railroad. 

We  set  out  at  daylight,  and  at  dark  the 
faithful  mule  walked  into  Culpeper.  So  did 
father.  Pie  walked  the  entire  distance  of 
forty  miles,  cheered  and  sustained  by  the 
knowledge  that  he  was  on  his  way  home  with 
his  boy,  his  only  son. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

CHANGE  OF  SERVICE 

It  was  twelve  months  before  I  was  entirely 
well  from  my  wounds,  and  then  I  was  pro- 
nounced permanently  disabled.  Not  desiring 
a  discharge,  I  was  assigned  to  light  duty — 
appointed  a  government  agent  for  the  collec- 
tion of  the  farmers'  "tithe  tax"  in  South 
Georgia.  Being  allowed  to  name  my  station, 
I  chose  Guyton  on  the  Central  Rail  Road, 
within  six  miles  of  my  home. 

I  had  spent  more  than  a  year  in  the  work 
and  had  gotten  nearly  through  the  collections 
of  1864,  when  Sherman  broke  up  my  job. 
My  last  order  from  headquarters  in  Savan- 
nah was  to  ship  what  I  had  on  hand  by  the 
next  train  and  dispose  of  myself  as  I  saw  fit. 

Knowing  that  there  was  a  fine  young  horse 
out  at  my  father's  farm,  only  six  miles  dis- 
tant, awaiting  my  final  "return  from  the 
war,"  I  was  not  long  in  deciding  that  the 
117 


n8 WAR  STORIES 

thing  for  me  to  do  was  to  get  that  horse  and 
"jine  the  cavalry,"  leaving  the  question  of 
mounting  and  dismounting  with  a  rather  help- 
less left  leg  to  the  "inspiration  of  the  occa- 
sion." So  early  next  morning  I  set  out  for 
home  and  arrived  there  to  find  everybody 
busy  "hiding  things"  and  making  ready  for 
the  marauding  host.  With  a  few  parting 
words  to  loved  ones,  I  mounted  "Tip"  and 
started  out,  not  knowing  where  night  would 
find  me. 

Something  prompted  me  to  go  back  to 
Guyton  before  the  Federals  got  there.  Per- 
haps it  was  a  wish  to  see,  just  once  more, 
"another  not  a  sister."  At  any  rate,  two 
hours  later  I  was  in  the  village.  But  just  as 
1  drew  rein  at  a  familiar  gate  a  little  darkey 
darted  round  the  corner  and  yelled,  "Hoss 
sojers  comin' !" 

JOINING  THE  CAVALRY 

Going  to  the  corner,  I  watched  the  ap- 
proaching cavalcade  for  a  few  minutes  and 
discovered  to  my  great  delight  that  they  were 
Confederates. 

The  command  proved  to  be  General 
Lewis's  Kentucky  brigade  of  General 
Wheeler's    cavalry,    with   the    Fourth   Ten- 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         119 

nessee,  under  Major  Bledsoe,  in  the  lead. 
Reporting  to  him  as  "mounted  infantry"  and 
out  of  a  job,  the  major  at  once  questioned 
me  as  to  my  knowledge  of  the  country,  and 
on  being  told  that  I  was  born  and  reared  in 
that  county  he  exclaimed,  "Just  the  man  we 
want, — a  guide  !    Come  on." 

GUIDE  FOR  GENERAL  LEWIS 

Following  a  neighborhood  road,  we  came 
to  the  next  full  station  on  the  railroad,  Eden 
or  "No.  2,"  a  little  while  before  sunset.  It 
was  here  that  the  main  road  to  Savannah 
from  the  south  side  of  the  Ogeechee  River 
crossed  that  stream  and  as  one  corps  of  Sher- 
man's army  was  known  to  be  on  that  road 
and  probably  in  advance  of  those  approach- 
ing on  our  side,  and  perhaps  at  that  very 
moment  crossing  the  river,  we  decided  a 
stand  should  be  made  here  with  a  view  of  at 
least  letting  them  know  that  the  way  was  not 
entirely  clear. 

"We'll  dismount  here,"  said  Major  Bled- 
soe, "and  you  will  please  take  that  man  rid- 
ing across  the  woods  yonder  and  reconnoiter 
for  me  toward  the  swamp." 

On  reaching  "that  man,"  who  proved  to  be 


I2Q WAR  STORIES 

a  farmer  lad  getting  out  of  the  way,  and  de- 
livering to  him  Major  Bledsoe's  request,  he 
replied,  "I  don't  need  to  reconnoiter.  There 
are  Yankees  in  that  swamp  and  I  don't  belong 
to  Major  Bledsoe." 

With  that  he  struck  old  "Firefly"  with  his 
peach  switch  and  galloped  away.  I  went  on 
toward  the  swamp.  Then  I  stopped  in  a 
clump  of  "gallberry"  bushes  to  make  obser- 
vations. Satisfying  myself  that  "that  man" 
was  right  about  Yankees  in  that  swamp,  and 
that  they  were  moving  to  where  I  was,  I 
turned  my  face  in  the  direction  of  the  point 
where  I  had  left  Major  Bledsoe  and  his  regi- 
ment, when,  to  my  inexpressible  astonishment 
and  terror,  I  beheld  a  line  of  Federal  skir- 
mishers, about  seventy-five,  I'm  sure,  stretch- 
ing across  the  open  piny  woods  from  scarcely 
one  hundred  yards  above  me  to  the  railroad, 
and  near  the  crossing  where  I  had  parted 
with  Major  Bledsoe.  Less  than  fifty  yards 
below  me  and  parallel  with  the  skirmish  line 
was  a  "stake  and  rider"  fence.  My  only  way 
of  reaching  the  railroad  and  the  wagon  road 
beyond  it  was  to  take  my  chances  at  full  speed 
down  the  skirmish  line  between  it  and  the 
fence.  It  seemed  a  hopeless  undertaking, 
and  for  a  moment  I  considered  the  question 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN 1 2 1 

of  dismounting  and  "heeling  it"  for  the  fence ; 
but  there  was  no  friendly  stump  near,  and 
the  inspiration  to  dismount  without  it  didn't 
come  at  once,  so  I  resolved  to  "run  the  gaunt- 
let." Dropping  down  close  on  "Tip's"  neck, 
I  headed  him  for  the  railroad  and  gave  him 
the  word.  He  seemed  to  understand  the 
situation,  and  burst  from  the  "gallberries" 
like  a  startled  deer.  With  every  leap  it 
seemed  to  me  a  rifle  ball  went  singing  past 
or  struck  a  pine  near  by  with  a  noise  like  a 
firecracker.  We  fairly  flew!  And  now  those 
skirmishers  shot!  Cursing,  then,  their  bad 
markmanship,  perhaps,  but  laughing  as  many 
a  time  since  they  told  the  story  of  the  "flying 
Rebel"  and  his  iron-gray  horse  that  they 
couldn't  hit. 

A  half  mile  below  the  railroad  crossing  I 
overtook  Major  Bledsoe,  who  manifested  no 
surprise  whatever  that  I  had  saved  myself; 
and  on  my  remonstrating  with  him  about 
leaving  me  without  notice,  he  laughingly  re- 
plied, "I  forgot  you  were  only  'mounted  in- 
fantry.' " 

This  was  my  first  experience  in  the  cavalry 
and  in  learning  that  peculiar  accomplishment 
characteristic  of  our  Confederate  troopers — 


122 WAR  STORIES 

"always  ready  to  fight  or  to  run,  and  always 
knowing  which  to  do,  without  orders." 

With  a  river  to  right  of  them,  a  river  to 
left  of  them,  and  Sherman's  army  of  seventy 
thousand  in  front  of  them,  stood  Lewis's  Ken- 
tucky cavalry  brigade  twelve  miles  out  of 
Savannah  in  December,  1864. 

A  few  miles  to  their  rear  were  the  forti- 
fications of  the  city  held  by  a  small  force 
under  General  Hardee. 

GEN.  LEWIS  TRIES  TO  GET  TO  S HERMAN'S  REAR 

Hemmed  in  on  three  sides,  as  has  been  de- 
scribed, General  Lewis  was  beginning  to  feel 
a  bit  cramped,  and  he  was  doubtless  turning 
over  in  his  mind  the  problem  of  avoiding  the 
humiliation  of  being  shut  up  in  Savannah  and 
drawing  rations  on  requisition,  "like  common 
foot  soldiers."  This  would  have  been  con- 
sidered degrading  by  any  of  the  cavalry,  but 
to  this  brigade,  that  had  had  the  honor  of 
marching  in  Sherman's  front  for  150  miles, 
giving  farmers  notice  of  his  approach  and 
being  allowed  to  help  themselves  to  anything 
they  wanted,  it  was  especially  humiliating. 

Already  it  was  reported  among  the  men 
that  General  Lewis  had  received  an  intima- 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         123 

tion  from  General  Hardee,  commanding  at 
Savannah,  that  on  reaching  the  city  his  men 
would  be  dismounted  and  placed  in  the 
trenches,  and  they  were  feeling  that,  after  all, 
it  might  have  been  better  to  follow  in  Sher- 
man's wake  and  forage  for  subsistence  among 
smoking  ruins  and  devastated  farms. 

Something  must  be  done  to  avert  the  dis- 
grace of  going  into  the  trenches.  But  to 
attempt  to  cross  the  Ogeechee  or  Savannah 
at  this  point  was  not  to  be  thought  of.  Only 
one  other  hope  remained,  that  of  finding  a 
way  to  Sherman's  rear  by  some  neighborhood 
road  running  between  the  main  thorough- 
fares on  which  the  army  was  marching;  and 
this  General  Lewis  decided  to  undertake. 

As  I  had  been  acting  as  his  guide  since  he 
had  reached  Guyton,  as  explained  in  a  former 
story,  and  claiming  familiarity  with  all  sec- 
tions of  the  county,  he  requested  me  to  accom- 
pany a  scouting  party  of  ten  men  on  this  expe- 
dition of  finding  the  desired  road.  It  was 
then  ten  o'clock  at  night,  and,  as  the  distance 
to  be  gone  over  was  not  less  than  fifteen 
miles,  no  time  was  to  be  lost.  We  set  out  at 
once. 

Going  forward  in  our  immediate  front 
near  the   Central   Railroad,   we   soon  came 


124  WAR  STORIES 

upon  thousands  of  pine-knot  fires,  showing 
the  presence  of  the  enemy  in  large  numbers. 
We  drew  back  and  moved  to  the  right  and 
again  went  forward.  The  same  scene  greeted 
our  eyes — fires  everywhere.  Again  we  went 
to  the  right,  and  again  we  came  upon  the 
enemy's  campfires.  They  seemed  to  be  liter- 
ally covering  the  county  from  river  to  river. 

Daylight  found  us  on  the  old  Augusta  road 
that  passes  through  the  eastern  part  of  Effing- 
ham County  and  very  near  the  Savannah 
River.  In  fact,  we  had  come  to  the  end  of 
our  search  without  finding  an  open  road 
through  the  enemy's  lines. 

For  once  my  training  in  the  infantry  served 
a  good  purpose.  On  parting  with  General 
Lewis  I  had,  like  a  good  foot-soldier,  asked 
for  "further  orders,"  in  the  event  I  found  no 
unoccupied  road  leading  to  Sherman's  rear. 
The  general  had  responded:  "Then  do  as 
you  please  with  yourself." 

The  boys  decided  that  the  last  order  in- 
cluded them,  and  offered  to  follow  me  in  my 
next  move.  I  decided  to  take  the  general  at 
his  word,  and  put  in  practice  some  of  my 
newly  acquired  cavalry  tactics  and  "save  my- 
self" by  crossing  the  Savannah  in  some  way, 
I  knew  not  exactly  how. 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN 125 

We  went  down  the  road  till  we  came  to  the 
avenue  leading  to  Winkler's  rice  plantation 
on  the  river  in  upper  Chatham,  known  as 
"Mulberry  Grove,"  and  a  ride  on  the  cause- 
way of  a  mile,  including  the  swimming  of  two 
small  creeks  where  the  bridges  had  been 
burned,  brought  us  to  the  Winkler  home. 
There  were  only  a  few  old  negroes  on  the 
place,  but  going  to  the  pier  on  the  river  we 
found  a  large  rice  flat  and  its  crew  of  eight 
or  ten  negroes.  To  my  request  that  they  put 
us  over  the  river,  the  leader  or  "cap'n"  re- 
plied: "You  see,  boss,  Marse  Winkler  sent 
us  for  the  furniture,  we  to  take  'em  right 
away."  Just  then  one  of  the  Kentucky  boys 
stepped  up  and,  clicking  the  hammer  of  his 
carbine,  asked  which  was  the  negro  that  said 
he  wouldn't  put  us  across.  Quickly  the 
"cap'n"  spoke  up:  "Boss,  I  didn't  say  I 
wouldn't — only  Marse  Winkler;  but  ef  you'll 
be  'sponsible  to  him,  we  put  you  'cross."  We 
assured  him  that  the  government  would  make 
it  all  right  with  "Marse  Winkler,"  and  soon 
gang  planks  were  made  ready,  the  horses 
were  blindfolded  and  led  aboard,  and  we 
headed  for  Carolina. 

We  landed  safely,  dismissed  the  "cap'n," 
and  started  for  the  woodland,  seemingly  a 


126 WAR  STORIES 

half  mile  distant.  But  horror  of  horrors! 
We  came  upon  another  river,  of  course, 
"Back  River,"  known  to  every  ricefield  darky 
for  twenty  miles  up  and  down  the  river.  We 
were  on  an  island.  But  the  boys  immediately 
set  out  to  explore  our  newfound  possessions, 
and  soon  returned  with  the  information  that, 
a  mile  below,  there  was  a  "negro  quarter," 
and  rice  and  chickens  seemed  abundant.  We 
moved  down  and  went  into  camp.  Soon  the 
squalling  hens  told  a  raid  was  on,  and  for  a 
day  and  night  we  feasted  on  boiled  rice, 
boiled  eggs,  and  boiled  hens.  The  next  day 
another  rice  flat  hove  in  sight  and  a  yell  from 
the  boys,  with  a  few  whistling  balls  over  her 
bow,  brought  it  to  shore.  We  were  soon 
aboard  and  again  heading  for  Carolina.  This 
time  we  reached  the  mainland  all  right.  And 
now,  surely,  thought  we,  our  troubles  will 
soon  be  over.  But  we  had  not  gone  a  mile 
when  a  cavalcade  in  gray  uniforms,  with  a 
profusion  of  brass  buttons  and  gold  lace,  bore 
down  on  us  from  a  side  avenue,  and  a  pomp- 
ous fellow  (a  militia  colonel  he  proved)  in  a 
plumed  hat  advanced,  ordered  us  to  halt  and 
consider  ourselves  under  arrest.  I  offered 
to  explain,  but  he  said  no  explanations  were 
wanted;  and  after  a  short  consultation  with 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         127 

his  staff  he  informed  us  that  we  would  be 
sent  under  guard  to  Colonel  Bird,  command- 
ing a  regiment  of  cavalry  a  few  miles  up  the 
road.  I  winked  at  the  boys,  but  "I  lay  low  and 
said  nothing,"  after  the  manner  of  Brer  Rab- 
bit when  it  was  determined  that  as  a  punish- 
ment he  should  be  thrown  into  a  brier  patch. 
Colonel  Bird  was  not  only  himself  one  of 
Wheeler's  boys,  but  also  a  neighbor  of  ours 
in  old  Effingham,  and  his  brother  a  near  kins- 
man of  mine  by  marriage. 

In  due  time  we  reached  his  camp,  and 
our  escort  departed.  The  colonel  was  de- 
lighted to  see  us  and  hear  from  General 
Lewis  in  Sherman's  front,  but  knowing  the 
customary  condition  of  the  average  soldier 
as  to  rations — they  usually  have  had  nothing 
to  eat  for  three  days — he  ordered  a  "good 
square  meal"  to  be  made  ready  for  us  and 
our  horses  well  supplied  with  corn  and  long 
forage. 

While  we  were  eating,  a  messenger  ar- 
rived, bringing  an  order  from  General 
Wheeler,  with  headquarters  in  rear  of  Sher- 
man at  Springfield,  my  old  home,  to  Colonel 
Bird,  directing  him  to  send  at  once  a  few  men 
as  guides  from  the  Effingham  County  com- 
pany in  his  regiment.     "That  suits  you  ex- 


128 WAR  STORIES 

actly,"  said  the  Colonel.  "They  can  go  along 
and  report  with  your  Kentucky  boys  to  Gen- 
eral Wheeler."  So,  reinforced  by  three  men 
from  the  regiment,  we  proceeded  on  our 
journey.  Arriving  at  the  river,  we  found  a 
bateau  with  which,  after  several  trips,  all 
the  men  were  put  on  the  Georgia  bank.  Two 
of  us  remained  with  the  horses  on  the  Caro- 
lina side,  and  when  all  was  ready  we  drove 
them  into  the  stream.  With  much  flounder- 
ing and  snorting  in  the  swift  flowing  current, 
they  finally  headed  for  the  south  bank  and  all 
landed  safely  and  were  taken  in  charge  by  the 
men  in  waiting.  We  followed  in  the  bateau, 
mounted  our  horses,  and  after  a  two  hours' 
ride  over  the  familiar  old  "Sisters'  Ferry 
road,"  reported  to  General  Wheeler  at 
Springfield. 


CHAPTER  IX 

in  rear  of  Sherman's  army 

It  is  rarely  the  case  that  I  venture  in  war 
narratives  to  go  beyond  my  own  personal 
observations  and  tell  of  things  that  others 
claim  to  have  seen  or  heard;  it  is  easy  to  get 
into  the  marvelous  and  incredible.  But  I 
will  depart  from  my  custom  in  this  respect, 
to  relate  a  story  told  of  General  Wheeler 
while  he  was  in  Sherman's  rear  at  Spring- 
field. 

Knowing  that  Sherman's  entire  army  was 
now  between  the  two  rivers,  the  Savannah 
and  Ogeechee,  a  strip  of  country  less  than 
twenty-five  miles  across,  and  that  it  was  a 
region  of  swamps  and  branches  and  "gall- 
berry  flats"  in  which  very  little  was  produced 
in  the  way  of  army  supplies,  he  concluded 
that  the  whole  army,  infantry,  artillery,  and 
cavalry,  was  being  fed  from  the  wagons. 
And  judging  Kilpatrick's  cavalry  by  his  own, 
he  knew  they  considered  it  a  tame  business 
129 


i3Q WAR  STORIES 

to  draw  rations  from  the  wagons.  He  felt 
quite  sure  they  would  not  consent  thus  to  take 
up  quarters  with  the  infantry  and  "eat  up 
their  grub,"  but  would  probably  go  on  a 
foraging  expedition  across  the  Ogeechee  into 
south  Georgia,  possibly  making  a  dash  at 
Andersonville,  to  release  the  forty  thousand 
prisoners  confined  there.  For  this,  however, 
they  certainly  would  not  have  received  the 
thanks  of  General  Grant,  who  just  before  this 
had  written  to  Butler,  the  Federal  Commis- 
sioner of  Exchange,  to  take  no  steps  looking 
to  an  exchange  of  prisoners,  because,  as  he 
stated,  to  make  "an  exchange  at  this  time 
would  endanger  Sherman's  army  and  com- 
promise my  own  position  at  Richmond."  So 
to  find  out  whether  Kilpatrick  was  with  the 
army  or  had  gone  off  on  this  expedition,  was 
the  thing  that  General  Wheeler  was  very 
anxious  right  then  to  know.  It  was  said  that 
in  order  to  get  this  information  he  sent  a 
man  under  a  flag  of  truce  to  the  Federal  lines 
with  a  communication  to  General  Kilpatrick, 
proposing  an  exchange  of  such  of  their  "cav- 
alry boys"  as  had  been  so  unfortunate  as  to 
be  picked  up,  without  referring  the  matter 
to  the  higher  authorities. 

Promptly  and  under  the  flaming  headlines, 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         131 

"Headquarters  of  cavalry,  Louisville  road, 
eight  miles  out  of  Savannah,"  General  Kil- 
patrick  wrote  a  reply  expressing  surprise  at 
the  reception  of  such  a  "monstrous  proposi- 
tion" from  an  officer  who  had  received  his 
military  training  at  West  Point,  etc.,  etc. 
General  Wheeler,  as  the  story  went,  did  not 
finish  reading  the  communication,  but  with 
the  remark,  "I  only  wanted  to  know  if  you 
are  there,  Kil,"  threw  it  on  the  floor  and 
instructed  his  adjutant  to  write  out  orders 
for  the  immediate  transfer  of  the  command 
into  South  Carolina. 

When  General  Wheeler  transferred  his 
command  to  South  Carolina  to  rest  and  re- 
cuperate, he  left  General  Iverson  with  a  small 
force  on  the  Georgia  side  of  the  river  to  keep 
an  eye  on  things  around  Savannah. 

THE  OLD  HOME  AFTER  THE  "CYCLONE"  HAD 
PASSED 

I  concluded  to  stay  with  General  Iverson 
as  guide  and  courier.  He  made  his  head- 
quarters at  Springfield,  and  as  soon  as  things 
became  somewhat  settled  I  got  a  leave  of 
absence  to  go  over  home,  only  a  mile  away, 
to  see  the  condition  of  things  there.     Evi- 


132 WAR  STORIES 

dences  that  the  invading  army  had  been  there 
were  to  be  seen  on  every  hand.  The  smoke- 
house stood  open,  likewise  the  sugar  and 
syrup  house,  the  corncrib,  and  the  "rice" 
house,  in  which  the  held  peas  were  usually 
stored  in  the  hull  till  the  rice  was  threshed. 
The  potato  "banks"  were  leveled  to  the 
ground;  every  stalk  of  seed  sugarcane  had 
been  pulled  out  of  its  winter  bed;  not  a  potato 
or  an  ear  of  corn  was  left;  not  a  chicken  or 
a  pig,  a  cow  or  a  horse.  But  under  the  wagon 
shelter  I  saw  a  strange  horse,  chewing  corn 
shucks,  and  on  inquiry  learned  that  on  the 
night  when  the  Yankees  were  camped  in 
front  of  the  house  Wheeler's  cavalry  had  a 
brush  with  them,  and  this  fine  Kentucky  mare 
had  been  shot  in  the  shoulder  and  abandoned. 
Her  neck  and  shoulder  were  badly  swollen, 
but  I  readily  located  the  ball  and  cut  it  out. 
She  afterward  did  good  service  in  my  wagon 
trip  to  Augusta  and  on  the  farm. 

The  house  lot  had  been  made  a  butcher 
pen  by  the  army  commissary,  and  father  had 
stretched  out  over  a  hundred  cow  hides  to 
dry.  Mother  and  my  sisters  had  looked 
after  the  fat  on  the  entrails  and  had  tried 
out  over  two  hundred  pounds  of  tallow. 

Of  the  forty  negroes  on  the  place,  who  for 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         133 

two  days  and  a  night  had  listened  to  the 
soldiers'  stories  of  "a  good  time  with  free- 
dom" in  Savannah,  all  but  one  man,  whose 
wife  lived  on  another  place,  had  packed  up 
and  followed  the  army. 

Except  a  few  panels  of  fence  in  the  pasture 
branch,  every  fence  rail  had  been  burned. 
Not  a  collard  nor  a  turnip  remained  in  the 
garden.  Articles  hidden  in  dense  thickets  in 
the  creek  swamps,  or  put  under  ground  and 
covered  with  leaves  and  trash  had  been  found 
and  carried  off;  and  the  only  vessels  on  the 
place  that  would  hold  water  were  the  well 
buckets,  a  large  wash  pot,  and  the  syrup 
boiler.  The  family  were  subsisting  on  peas 
and  rice;  the  former,  being  in  the  hull,  were 
troublesome  to  the  soldiers  to  shell  out  and 
the  rice  was  in  the  stacks  unthreshed.  Father 
had  dug  up  the  earth  in  the  smokehouse  and 
extracted  some  salt  water  to  use  with  fresh 
pork  picked  up  from  the  camps  or  found  in 
the  fields  and  woods. 

As  an  offset  to  the  gloom  and  desolation, 
the  following  amusing  incident  was  related  to 
me  by  my  sister  Belle,  afterward  Mrs.  J.  B. 
Kieffer,  and  since  sunset  of  that  perfect  day 
in  June,  1905,  when  the  voice  from  heaven 
called  her  sweet  spirit  home,  a  dweller  in  the 


134 WAR  STORIES 

"House  not  made  with  hands  eternal  in  the 
heavens." 

I  give  it  exactly  as  she  told  it  to  me :  The 
army  had  begun  to  arrive  about  one  o'clock 
at  their  camping  place  out  on  the  Middle- 
ground  road, — a  half  mile  from  the  house, — 
and  at  once  hundreds  of  soldiers  spread  over 
the  fields  and  through  the  yard  and  house, 
helping  themselves  to  everything  their  needs 
or  fancy  suggested.  Just  before  dark  a  cav- 
alry company  rode  into  the  grove  in  front 
of  the  house  and  unsaddled  their  horses. 
Mother,  my  two  sisters,  and  Peter,  our  bright 
little  negro  houseboy,  about  ten  years  old, 
were  the  only  occupants  of  the  house  that 
night.  Father,  hearing  of  the  tortures  to 
which  old  men  were  being  subjected  in  order 
to  extort  money  and  valuables  from  them, 
had  decided  to  remain  out  of  the  way  until 
the  army  had  passed. 

In  terror  and  dread  the  helpless  group  sat 
up  through  the  long  hours  of  that  terrible 
night,  wishing  for  the  morrow  that  they 
hoped  would  mean  the  departure  of  the 
army. 

About  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  there 
was  a  gentle  rap  at  the  back  door,  and  little 
Peter  was  sent  to  see  what  it  meant.     He  re- 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         135 

turned  with  the  announcement  that  it  was  a 
man  "who  say  he  is  a  Rebel  sojer  and  wan'ter 
see  de  lady  of  de  house."  With  Federal  sol- 
diers in  camp  almost  up  to  the  front  gate, 
Peter's  story  of  a  Rebel  soldier  at  the  back 
door  seemed  incredible,  and  yet  the  polite 
request  "to  see  the  lady  of  the  house"  in- 
spired the  hope  that  the  stranger  might 
really  be  a  Southern  soldier,  so,  accompanied 
by  Peter,  mother  went  to  the  door. 

The  man  at  once  began  his  story.  He 
stated  he  belonged  to  Wheeler's  cavalry,  a 
company  of  which  was  on  the  other  side  of 
the  large  creek  (Ebenezer)  just  back  of  the 
house,  and  he  had  come  over  on  foot  to  in- 
quire if  there  was  not  a  ford  across  it  and  a 
path  through  the  swamp,  the  public  road 
crossing  it  at  this  point  having  been  block- 
aded by  trees  felled  across  it  and  the  bridge 
burned.  He  added  that  if  they  could  get 
through  they  proposed  to  surprise  the  Fed- 
eral cavalry  camped  in  front  of  the  house  by 
a  daylight  attack  and  capture  their  horses. 
He  was  told  there  was  a  ford  and  a  path 
through  the  swamp  leading  up  to  our  horse 
lot,  but  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  him 
to  find  it  in  the  darkness.  Peter  stood  listen- 
ing to  all  that  passed  and,  knowing  "ole  mis- 


136 WAR  STORIES 

sus"  was  right  about  the  trouble  of  the  sol- 
dier's finding  the  ford  and  the  path,  put  in  a 
solution,  with  the  request  that  he  be  allowed 
to  "go  wid  de  genterman  and  show  him."  He 
was  told  he  could  do  so,  and  disappeared 
with  him. 

An  hour  later  a  body  of  cavalry  rode  sil- 
ently through  the  yard;  then  there  was  a 
"Rebel  yell"  and  a  rattling  discharge  of 
pistols  and  rifles  in  the  grove.  The  Fed- 
erals, taken  completely  by  surprise,  scam- 
pered away  in  the  darkness  and  the  Confed- 
erates, quickly  seizing  the  abandoned  horses 
and  other  leavings,  disappeared  as  quietly  as 
they  had  come.  An  officer  ran  through  the 
house  saying,  "My  fine  mare  was  shot  in  the 
shoulder  and  I  must  leave  her,  but  she'll  get 
over  it.    You  may  have  her." 

The  alarm  soon  spread  through  the  Fed- 
eral camps  and  a  pursuing  force  was  organ- 
ized. It  was  now  daylight.  Through  the 
grove  they  charged  and  into  the  yard  and 
around  the  house.  A  Federal  officer  passed 
near  the  window  where  Mother  was  looking 
out,  and  seated  behind  him  was  little  Peter. 
As  he  caught  sight  of  the  face  in  the  window 
he  called  out,  "Missus,  I'm  showin  de  udder 
genterman   now."      Such  was  the   negro  on 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         137 


the  farm  during  the  war,  ready  to  help  all 
who  called  on  him,  without  stopping  to  ask 
whether  they  were  Federal  or  Confederate. 

Peter  soon  returned,  saying  with  a  chuckle : 
"I  showed  him  all  right,  but  he  was  'fraid  to 
go  in  de  swamp." 

I  will  add  a  few  lines  on  the  subsequent 
history  of  that  fine  mare. 

She  recovered,  and  did  good  service  on 
the  farm  the  following  spring.  And  so  long 
as  her  fare  consisted  of  cornstalks  and  green 
millet  she  was  submissive  and  went  up  and 
down  the  corn  rows  as  meekly  as  a  mortgaged 
mule,  but  when  the  little  crop  was  "laid  by" 
and  we  began  to  mix  "shoots"  and  "nubbins" 
in  her  rations,  her  Kentucky  blood  and  army 
training  asserted  themselves.  She  disdained 
the  touch  of  buggy  and  carriage  trappings 
and  nothing  on  wheels  could  come  near  her 
and  hold  together.  So  I  rode  her  to  Savan- 
nah and  had  her  sold  at  auction,  without  war- 
ranting her  to  "stand  without  hitching"  or  to 
"give  her  dust"  to  everything  on  the  road. 
The  auctioneer  called  attention  to  her  fine, 
ratlike  hair,  her  clean  limbs,  and  the  trace 
marks  on  her  sides.  The  bidding  was  lively, 
and  she  was  soon  knocked  down  at  $150. 
The  money  was  paid  and  she  was  led  away. 


138 WAR  STORIES 

The  auctioneer  took  out  his  commission  and 
handed  me  the  remainder  and  as  I  stuffed  the 
comforting  wad  of  "greenbacks"  into  my 
pocket  I  asked  him  if  he  knew  the  purchaser. 
"Yes,"  said  he,  "it  was  Ferguson,  the  un- 
dertaker." I  left  town  that  day.  As  we 
took  no  newspaper  at  our  house  at  that  time, 
I  knew  nothing  of  the  "happenings  in  the 
city"  during  those  days,  nor  did  I  ever  learn 
whether  the  noble  animal,  passing  through 
those  terrible  days  of  "destruction  and  recon- 
struction," was  finally  induced  to  "accept  the 
situation,"  or,  true  to  her  army  training,  she 
continued  to  disdain  breeching  and  traces  and 
scattered  the  dead  behind  as  she  probably 
had  been  accustomed  to  do  with  the  living  in 
front  of  her. 

WAGON  TRIP  TO  AUGUSTA 

A  few  weeks  after  this  visit  I  decided  to 
make  a  wagon  trip  to  Augusta  to  dispose  of 
the  hides  and  tallow  and  get  some  much 
needed  supplies  for  the  family. 

The  negro  man,  London,  who  had  re- 
mained on  the  place,  begged  to  be  allowed  to 
go  with  me,  and  together  we  made  the  long 
journey. 

Of  this  wagon  trip  of  nearly  a  hundred 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         139 

miles  I  must  give  a  few  incidents  to  show  in 
some  degree  the  straightened  circumstances 
at  that  time  (January,  1865)  of  the  people 
of  our  dear  Southland. 

When  I  reached  McBean,  a  station  on  the 
Central  Railroad  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  be- 
low Augusta,  I  decided  to  leave  the  team  and 
take  my  hides  and  tallow  by  rail  the  rest 
of  the  way.  While  I  was  having  the  hides 
weighed  a  man  stepped  up  and  asked  if  they 
were  for  sale.  After  a  few  words  we  traded 
at  five  dollars  a  pound,  and  he  counted  out 
for  me  three  thousand  dollars  in  Confederate 
bills. 

On  reaching  Augusta  I  learned  that  the 
Augusta  cotton  factories  were  refusing  to 
take  Confederate  money  for  their  goods,  but 
would  exchange  cloth  for  produce.  As  the 
marauders  had  carried  off  not  only  every 
sheet,  pillow-slip,  and  towel  at  our  house,  but 
every  article  of  clothing,  both  men's  and 
women's  that  was  not  on  the  bodies  of  their 
wearers,  my  list  of  purchases  called  for  sev- 
eral bolts  of  homespun;  so  I  headed  straight 
for  the  factory  with  the  tallow.  It  was 
readily  exchanged  at  the  rate  of  a  pound  of 
tallow  for  a  yard  of  cloth.  Then  I  proceeded 
to  make  some  other  purchases  as  follows: 


i_40 WAR  STORIES 

A  sack  of  flour — ioo  lbs.  .  .  $150  00 
A  sack  of  corn  meal — 100  lbs.  50  00 
One  bushel  of  salt  ....  150  00 
One  wool  hat  (boy's  size)   .   .      125   00 

On  my  way  home  I  drove  up  to  a  resi- 
dence in  Burke  County,  with  a  large  barn  in 
sight,  and  told  the  gentleman  who  greeted 
me  that  I  had  come  for  some  corn.  He  stated 
that  every  bushel  not  needed  for  his  own  use 
had  been  engaged,  and  much  of  it,  in  fact, 
had  been  paid  for.  But  I  pleaded  with  him 
so  earnestly  that  finally  he  agreed  to  let  me 
have  twelve  bushels  in  the  shuck, — all  my 
wagon  would  hold, — for  twenty-five  dollars 
a  bushel.  I  gladly  paid  him  the  three  hun- 
dred dollars,  and  with  my  well-filled  wagon 
proceeded  on  my  journey.  At  two  other 
places  I  succeeded  in  trading  cloth  for  some 
hens — a  yard  of  homespun  for  a  hen. 

When  I  reached  the  residence  of  Mr. 
Kittles,  friends  of  our  family  in  Scriven 
County,  they  completed  my  load  with  several 
sacks  of  sweet  potatoes.  Nowhere  is  a  sweet 
potato  more  appreciated  during  the  winter 
months  than  on  a  south  Georgia  farm,  and 
as  the  family  had  not  seen  one  for  more  than 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         141 


a  month  this  present  was  regarded  as  a  be- 
lated "Santa  Claus  gift." 

A  SCOUTING  PARTY — AND  PURSUIT 

While  I  was  with  General  Iverson  I  was 
in  a  measure  relieved  from  duty,  and  I  fre- 
quently mingled  with  "the  boys"  in  camp. 
On  one  occasion  I  joined  Lieutenant  Clarke 
of  the  Fourth  Alabama  Cavalry  in  a  scout 
to  pick  up  stray  horses  and  make  observations 
near  the  enemy's  lines. 

Our  little  scouting  party  was  a  typical  one, 
illustrating  in  its  make-up  the  waning  cause 
of  the  Confederacy  and  the  depleting  effect 
on  its  resources  of  the  long-drawn-out 
struggle. 

It  consisted,  besides  Lieutenant  Clarke  and 
myself,  of  Dick  and  John,  two  seventeen- 
year-old  recruits,  who  had  enlisted  under  the 
"last  call,"  the  former  mounted  on  a  three- 
year-old  colt,  the  latter  on  a  stocky  little  mule 
that  reminded  one  of  a  toy  horse,  and  Sam 
K.,  a  sixteen-year-old  lad  of  the  neighbor- 
hood, whose  widowed  mother  had  on  the 
approach  of  Sherman  directed  him  to  mount 
their  only  plow  animal,  "old  Mollie,"  and 
join  the  cavalry. 


i42 WAR  STORIES 

A  ride  of  six  or  seven  miles  brought  us  in 
the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  army.  Women 
and  children  in  roadside  cottages  were 
startled  at  our  presence  "right  among  Yan- 
kees," and  warned  us  not  to  go  any  farther. 
But  we  assured  them  we  could  take  care  of 
ourselves  and  proceeded  down  the  road. 

Our  "order  of  advance"  at  this  time  was 
as  follows :  Clarke  and  myself,  side  by  side, 
in  the  lead;  about  fifteen  yards  behind  us, 
Sam  on  old  "Mollie";  then,  at  a  similar  in- 
terval behind  him,  Dick  on  the  colt,  and 
lastly,  far  to  the  rear,  came  John  on  the 
mule. 

An  old  sow  with  two  plump  little  roasters 
trotted  across  the  road  in  front  of  us. 
"Look!"  said  Clarke,  "see  what  they  have 
left  us,"  and  turning  in  his  saddle,  he  called 
to  Dick  to  pick  up  one  of  the  pigs. 

Naturally  all  eyes  were  turned  in  the  di- 
rection of  Dick  and  the  pigs.  Just  then,  and 
as  startling  as  a  thunderbolt  from  a  clear 
sky,  came  a  volley  of  pistol  shots  with  bullets 
whistling  so  close  we  could  "feel  their  breath" 
and,  looking  ahead,  we  beheld  in  the  midst 
of  smoke  and  dust  and  flashing  sabers  a  body 
of  Federal  cavalry  bearing  down  on  us  under 
a   full  charge.     Sam  exclaimed,   "They  are 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         143 

going  to  stampede  us!"  "Old  Mollie,"  ris- 
ing on  her  hind  feet,  spun  around  and  was 
"down  to  business."  Dick  regained  the  road, 
and  the  colt  was  "off"  as  in  a  free-for-all 
quarter-dash.  The  mule  had  likewise  "about- 
faced,"  and  he  and  his  rider,  now  seemingly 
molded  into  one,  appeared  as  a  black  dot  in 
the  white  sand  road. 

"Hold  your  horse  in,"  said  Clarke;  "we 
must  keep  the  boys  ahead  of  us." 

But  my  inclinations  were  all  for  getting  in 
front,  and  "Tip"  seemed  to  share  my  spirit. 
However,  holding  him  in  slightly,  I  glanced 
ahead.  The  boys  had  "bunched"  and  "neck 
and  neck"  were  filling  the  road.  I  didn't  like 
that.  But  soon  "Old  Mollie's"  staying  quali- 
ties told  in  her  favor  and  she  shot  ahead. 
The  mule's  short  legs  failed  "to  reach,"  and 
he  dropped  back  to  third  place.  We  passed 
the  cottage  where  the  kind  warning  had  been 
given,  but  we  exchanged  no  greetings  this 
time  with  the  group  on  the  front  steps.  We 
didn't  have  time.  The  firing  seemed  to 
slacken.  Clarke  looked  over  his  shoulder. 
"Put  your  horse  out,"  he  said,  "they  are  right 
on  us." 

I  dropped  down  on  "Tip's"  neck,  gave  him 
the   reins  and,   striking  him  with  my  open 


i_44 WAR  STORIES 

hand,  said  with  intense  earnestness,  ''Go, 
Tip,  go!"  He  responded  nobly.  But  now 
we  were  right  on  the  mule,  and  I  was  about 
to  make  a  bad  wish  tor  him.  Just  then  we 
came  to  a  place  where  some  fence  rails  had 
been  put  over  a  mud-hole  in  the  road.  The 
mule  struck  the  rails  with  all  four  feet.  They 
turned,  and  down  he  went  on  his  breast,  his 
rider  rolling  off  in  the  ditch  at  the  roadside. 
"Tip"  cleared  mule  and  rails,  but  had  scarcely 
landed  on  "terra  firma"  when  I  heard  the 
horses  behind  us  strike  the  rails.  Once  again 
I  gave  "Tip"  an  earnest  stroke  and  urged 
him  to  go.  I  felt  something  strike  my  heel. 
I  glanced  down  to  see  what  it  meant,  and 
there  at  my  stirrup  was  that  little  mule's 
nose,  his  nostrils  dilated,  his  half-shut  eyes 
looking  up  with  a  pleading  expression,  and 
his  short  legs,  now  seemingly  increased  to 
forty,  were  moving  like  the  sticks  of  a  kettle- 
drum. True  to  his  training,  he  was  doing 
the  "last  act"  in  cavalry  tactics,  saving  him- 
self. There  was  yet  a  hundred  yards  to  the 
wooded  branch  and  the  curve  in  the  road. 
The  mare  and  the  colt  were  "getting  there." 
Would  we  also  be  able  to  make  it?  Again  I 
glanced  at  my  stirrup.  The  mule's  nose  was 
right  there;  his  head  on  a  line  with  his  neck. 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN         145 

There  was  a  splash,  I  felt  my  horse  lean  to 
the  right,  and  "We  are  safe !"  from  Clarke 
relieved  the  tension  and  ended  the  race. 

We  drew  up  on  the  side  of  the  road  to 
"catch  breath"  and  exchange  congratulations. 
The  mule  came  up  and  stood  between  us  and, 
as  he  swayed  back  and  forth,  his  long  ears 
keeping  time  with  his  body  and  his  little  eyes 
pleasantly  winking,  he  seemed  to  be  saying: 
"You  thought  they'd  have  me,  but  they 
didn't;  you  thought  they'd  get  me,  but  they 
couldn't." 

When  we  reached  camp  we  found  Sam 
and  Dick  stretched  out  before  the  pine-knot 
fire  soundly  sleeping,  undisturbed  by  roast- 
pig  dreams  or  life-and-death  stampedes. 
Poor  John  had  probably  been  captured  and 
would  soon  be  in  a  Northern  prison,  where, 
according  to  Grant,  he  would  be  no  more 
than  a  dead  man  to  the  Confederate  States 
for  the  remainder  of  the  war. 

A  few  weeks  after  my  return  from  my  Au- 
gusta trip  reports  were  brought  to  General 
Iverson  that  the  Federal  army  was  leaving 
Savannah  on  the  road  leading  in  the  direction 
of  Springfield,  and  he  gradually  dropped 
back  toward  Augusta.  Leaving  him  again 
for  a  few  days,  I  went  home,  hitched  up  the 


146 WAR  STORIES 

wagon,  put  the  corn  back  into  it  with  some 
other  supplies,  and  left,  accompanied  by  the 
faithful  negro  man,  London,  to  keep  out  of 
Sherman's  way. 

LONDON,  THE  TRUSTWORTHY  NEGRO  SLAVE 

One  incident  of  this  "hide  out"  I  must 
give  to  show  the  perfect  trustworthiness  of 
this  negro  slave. 

When  the  army  reached  Springfield  the 
head  of  the  column  took  the  Sisters'  Ferry 
road,  indicating  Sherman's  purpose  to  cross 
the  Savannah  River  at  that  point  to  invade 
South  Carolina.  This  would  take  the  army 
again  to  our  house. 

The  crossing  of  the  river  was  attended 
with  some  trouble,  and  it  required  eleven 
days?  During  all  this  time  the  rear  of  the 
army  was  in  the  vicinity  of  Springfield  and 
the  old  home.  I  became  impatient  to  know 
how  things  were  going  on  there,  so,  borrow- 
ing a  gun  and  accompanied  by  a  convales- 
cent Confederate  soldier  whom  I  found  at 
Guyton,  I  went  out  to  Springfield.  Among 
our  thrilling  experiences  in  the  enemy's  line, 
we  had  the  good  fortune  to  capture,  one 
night  about  ten  o'clock,  a  Yankee  who 
claimed  to  be  a  deserter,   from  whom  we 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         147 

secured  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars 
in  United  States  "greenbacks."  (He  must 
have  been  a  "bounty  jumper.")  As  I  had 
not  yet  been  able  to  reach  our  house,  I  was 
not  ready  to  return,  but  we  had  no  use  for 
the  prisoner  where  we  were,  and  what  to 
do  with  him  was  a  question.  To  relieve  the 
situation  my  comrade  offered  to  take  him 
that  night  to  the  Confederate  picket  post  at 
Guyton,  five  miles  distant.  I  agreed,  but 
fearing  some  mishap  with  him,  I  insisted 
on  taking  care  of  all  the  money,  with  the 
promise  that  I  would  come  to  him  next  night 
and  divide.  When  I  got  back  to  my  wagon 
the  next  afternoon  I  learned  that  my  com- 
rade had  delivered  our  prisoner  all  right, 
but  that  a  Federal  scouting  party  had  that 
morning  come  to  Guyton  and  driven  off  the 
Confederate  pickets  there  and  they  were  at 
that  time  in  possession  of  the  place.  I  ex- 
plained my  situation  to  London,  telling  him 
about  my  agreement  with  my  comrade,  who 
was  to  be  at  Mr.  Patton's  in  Guyton  that 
night.  London's  wife  lived  in  Guyton,  and 
he  was  well  acquainted  with  the  place,  so 
I  proposed  to  him  to  take  the  money  to 
my  friend.  He  agreed  to  do  so,  saying,  "The 
Yankees  won't  trouble  me  if  they  see  me." 


148 WAR  STORIES 

I  counted  out  sixty  dollars  in  five  and  ten 
dollar  bills — the  money  was  all  in  that 
shape — and  gave  him  the  roll.  He  delivered 
it  and  returned  next  morning,  with  a  brief 
note  in  pencil  from  my  friend,  who  was  safely 
closeted  at  Mr.  Patton's. 

After  caring  for  the  team  with  me,  London 
remained  with  father,  and  after  Lee's  sur- 
render made  a  contract  with  him  to  crop  on 
shares  that  year.  That  fall  he  hauled  to 
his  wife's  home  in  Guyton  his  share  of  the 
corn,  potatoes,  and  syrup,  and,  sitting  alone 
one  evening  in  front  of  the  fireplace  in  his 
house,  he  was  suddenly  seized  with  an  epi- 
leptic fit,  to  which  he  was  somewhat  subject, 
and,  falling  forward  into  the  fire,  was  burned 
to  death  before  he  was  discovered. 

I  have  written  the  story  of  his  faithful- 
ness and  the  sad  ending  of  his  life  as  my 
tribute  to  his  memory,  glad  in  the  thought 
that  it  will  be  read  by  everyone  into  whose 
hands  his  "Mars'  Berry's"  little  book  shall 
come. 

INCIDENTS    INSIDE    OF    THE    ENEMY'S    LINES 

Another  incident  of  my  venture  in  the  lines 
of  the  Federal  army  at  Springfield  while  it 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         149 

was  delayed  crossing  the  river  to  go  into 
South  Carolina,  I  must  not  omit. 

My  comrade,  Thomas,  was  equipped  with 
a  small-bore  rifle  that  carried  a  ball  about 
as  large  as  a  "crowder"  pea,  and  I  had  se- 
cured a  double  barrelled  shotgun,  into  which 
I  had  put  good  charges  of  powder  and  thirty- 
two  buckshot — sixteen  to  each  barrel. 

Just  before  reaching  the  village  I  explained 
to  Thomas  the  location  of  the  court  house 
and  a  few  of  the  principal  residences,  among 
them  Dr.  Wilson's  house  in  the  lower  part 
of  the  village,  where  I  agreed  to  come  to 
him  after  I  had  reconnoitered  about  grand- 
mother's hotel  and  the  court  house.  We 
separated.  As  I  came  in  view  of  the  hotel 
I  saw  two  men  jump  off  of  the  veranda  and 
run  down  the  street  toward  Dr.  Wilson's 
residence.  I  ran  to  the  hotel,  and  when 
grandmother  recognized  me  she  exclaimed : 
"My  child,  did  you  drop  out  of  the  clouds!" 
I  explained  my  presence  and  mission.  She 
begged  me  to  go  back  into  the  branch,  say- 
ing the  Yankee  soldiers  were  all  about  the 
place,  and  added  that  two  had  just  left  in  a 
run,  saying  they  saw  a  Rebel  soldier  down 
the  street.  I  knew  that  was  my  comrade. 
"The  men,"  she  said,  "each  had  a  repeating 


I5Q WAR  STORIES 

rifle  and  a  pistol."  I  told  her  the  man  they 
saw  was  my  comrade  and  I  must  go  to  his 
rescue  and,  against  her  protest,  hurried  off 
down  the  street.  Just  before  reaching  Dr. 
Wilson's  I  stopped  behind  a  tree  to  look 
about.  In  a  few  minutes  the  two  men  came 
out  of  the  house,  followed  by  Mrs.  Wilson. 
They  stood  a  moment  seemingly  arguing  with 
her  about  something,  and  then  walked  down 
the  steps  and  proceeded  down  the  street.  As 
soon  as  they  turned  the  first  corner  I  slipped 
up  to  the  house  and  inquired  of  Mrs.  Wilson 
if  she  had  seen  anything  of  a  Confederate 
soldier.  Recognizing  me,  she  replied,  "Yes, 
I  have  him  hid  in  the  house  and  have  just 
had  a  terrible  time  with  two  Yankees  who 
declared  they  saw  him  come  into  the  house." 
She  said  that  luckily  Dr.  Wilson  came  in 
just  then  from  the  horse  lot,  and  one  of 
them,  laughing,  said:  "There's  our  Rebel, 
and  he's  harmless."  But  the  other  had  insisted 
that  he  saw  "a  Rebel  in  a  gray  jacket,"  and 
wanted  to  search  further  for  him,  but  finally 
gave  way  to  his  companion's  statement. 
Mrs.  Wilson  then  went  in  and  brought  my 
friend  from  his  hiding-place.  We  decided 
to  follow  the  two  Yankees.  We  were  rein- 
forced just  then  by  my  cousin  from  grand- 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         151 

mother's,  a  fourteen-year-old  boy.  He  was 
armed  with  a  "smooth-bore"  musket  taller 
than  himself. 

A  mile  below  the  village  we  came  in  sight 
of  the  men  just  as  they  were  going  into  the 
gate  of  a  residence — 'Wilse  Zipperer's.  We 
immediately  planned  for  their  capture. 
Thomas  and  the  lad  were  to  crawl  up  into 
a  corner  of  the  fence  just  above  the  gate, 
while  I  would  go  in  front  of  the  gate  just 
across  the  road  and  conceal  myself  in  some 
scantily  foliaged  scrubs  and  briers.  Soon  the 
men  came  out  and  started  for  the  gate,  and 
I  got  my  gun  in  position,  with  the  words 
"Hands  up"  at  my  tongue's  end.  Just  then 
an  open  vehicle,  with  a  one-armed  man,  the 
county  tax  collector,  Ben  Morgan,  a  lady 
and  two  children  in  it,  came  up  to  the  gate 
and  stopped !  My  eyes  had  been  riveted  on 
the  men  in  the  yard,  and  the  slow  moving 
team  in  the  heavy  sand  road  had  come 
across  my  vision  as  noiselessly  as  a  moving 
cloud.  I  didn't  move  a  muscle,  but  held  my- 
self ready  to  throw  up  my  hands  and  say 
"Don't  shoot!"  The  men  stood  across  the 
road  from  me  and  between  the  vehicle  and 
the  gate,  one  of  them  seemingly  looking  into 
my   face   as   he  talked.     Then   the  vehicle 


152  WAR  STORIES 

moved  off  and  the  men  stepped  behind  it  and 
followed,  continuing  their  talk.  I  heard  one 
of  them  say  to  Morgan  something  about 
''dismounted  cavalrymen."  It  was  about  sun- 
set. Soon  they  and  the  team  disappeared 
around  a  curve  in  the  road.  We  came  to- 
gether for  another  "war  council."  We  de- 
cided to  follow  them.  At  the  next  residence, 
Mrs.  John  Bird's,  the  vehicle  turned  in,  but 
the  men  kept  on  down  the  road. 

I  explained  to  the  boys  that  a  few  hundred 
yards  ahead  was  a  pond,  the  main  road  pass- 
ing through  the  edge  of  it  and  a  "turn-out," 
dry  road  around  it,  with  "gallberry"  bushes 
between  the  two  roads.  Our  plan  was  to 
move  up  close  to  the  men,  and  if  they  took 
the  dry  road  we  would  slip  by  them  on  the 
main  road  and  be  ready  for  them  as  they 
came  back  into  it.  The  full  moon  had  risen 
and  we  could  see  the  men  very  plainly  about 
a  hundred  yards  ahead  of  us.  We  quickened 
our  steps,  and  as  the  men  turned  to  the  left 
into  the  by-road  we  started  on  a  run  in  the 
main  road.  My  foot  struck  a  root,  the  men 
whirled  around.  I  thought  of  my  thirty-two 
buckshot  and,  feeling  sure  that  whoever  got 
in  the  first  shot  would  win,  I  dropped  my 
gun  to  the  level  of  my  hip  and  fired.     I  saw 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN         153 

the  flash  of  the  Yankee's  gun  at  the  moment 
and  a  ball  whizzed  close  to  my  cheek  I 
pulled  the  other  trigger  and  yelled,  "Head 
'em!  head  'em!"  at  the  same  moment  jump- 
ing behind  a  pine  at  the  side  of  the  road. 
Thomas  and  the  lad,  had  done  the  same 
thing.  When  the  smoke  cleared  away  I 
peered  forward,  expecting  to  see  at  least 
one  of  the  men  lying  in  the  road;  only  the 
shadow  of  a  pine  lay  across  it.  Presently, 
in  a  strong  whisper,  I  said  to  Thomas, 
"What  you  think?"  "In  the  bushes,"  he 
whispered  back.  I  was  afraid  he  would  say 
that  very  thing,  and  his  words  were  not  com- 
forting. We  kept  our  places  in  perfect  si- 
lence for  probably  a  half  hour,  hoping  to 
see  or  hear  something  that  would  help  us 
to  decide  what  to  do  next.  Finally  I  con- 
cluded to  make  a  move,  and  whispered  to 
the  boys  that  we  would  step  out,  keeping  our 
eyes  on  the  bushes.  We  did  so.  Then  we 
parleyed  about  coming  together  to  reload 
our  guns.  Thomas  being  the  only  one  who 
had  any  powder,  I  whispered,  "Come  over." 
He  replied,  "You  come."  The  moonlight 
in  the  road  was  too  bright  for  us,  in  view 
of  those  dark-looking  "gallberries"  ahead  of 
us,  so  we  held  to  the  shade  a  half  hour  longer. 


154 WAR  STORIES 

Then  the  boys  came  over  to  me.  We  started 
to  reload.  My  gun  slipped  through  my  hands 
and  struck  the  ground  heavily.  Milton,  the 
lad,  exclaimed,  "They're  coming!"  and 
dashed  away  like  a  frightened  rabbit. 
Thomas,  to  be  sure  with  himself,  followed, 
and  I  found  myself  putting  my  "game"  leg 
to  the  test,  unmindful  of  the  surgeon's  state- 
ment of  permanent  disability  in  that  member. 
After  a  short  run  we  came  together  and  de- 
cided to  call  it  a  "draw  game,"  and  started 
back  for  Springfield. 

A  few  months  afterward  I  was  telling  this 
story  at  home,  when  father  suggested  that 
he  could  add  something  to  it.  He  said  that 
on  the  day  I  claimed  to  have  been  in  Spring- 
field, two  dismounted  cavalrymen  had  called 
at  the  house  looking  for  horses,  and  next 
morning  just  after  daylight  the  same  two 
men  came  up  out  of  the  swamp  nearly  frozen 
and  asked  him  to  make  a  fire  for  them. 
While  they  were  warming  themselves  they 
told  him  a  "lot  of  Rebels"  got  after  them 
below  the  village  just  after  dark  the  evening 
before  and  came  very  near  capturing  them; 
that  they  escaped  by  taking  to  their  heels 
and  hiding  in  the  swamp.  Still  later  I  talked 
to  Mr.  Zipperer,   in  front  of  whose  house 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN         155 


we  had  planned  the  capture  of  the  men,  and 
he  told  me  that  the  next  day  he  was  passing 
around  the  pond  below  Mrs.  Bird's  and  found 
a  soldier's  blanket-roll  at  the  side  of  the 
road  with  eleven  buckshot  in  it. 


CHAPTER  X 

AT  THE  MERCY  OF  THE  INVADING  ARMY 

No  apology  is  offered  for  including  the 
following  letter  from  my  sister,  Mrs.  Elvy 
E.  Heidt,  in  my  war  stories.  It  was  fur- 
nished not  without  some  misgivings,  for,  in 
her,  trials  and  afflictions  have  done  "their 
perfect  work"  and  she  has  learned  "in  all 
things  to  give  thanks  and  upbraid  not."  In 
her  account  of  the  visit  of  Sherman's  army 
to  our  home  she  but  verifies  the  statement 
of  a  Northern  historian,  Nugent  Robinson, 
in  "History  of  the  World  with  all  its  great 
Sensations,"  that  when  Sherman  was  near- 
ing  the  end  of  his  long  march  "discipline  re- 
laxed and  the  army  was  little  better  than  a 
horde  of  savage  plunderers." 

"Guyton,  Ga.,  January  10,  1912. 

"Dear  Brother: 

"You  ask  me  to  give  you  for  your  book 
an  account  of  the  visit  to  our  home  of  Sher- 
man's army  on  its  march  to  Savannah. 
156 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN 157 

"I  was  yet  a  schoolgirl  at  that  time.  Many 
years  have  passed  since,  and  I  fear  my 
memory  is  not  equal  to  the  task.  But  some 
incidents  of  that  event  I  can  never  forget. 
One  thing  I  must  omit,  namely,  our  feelings 
while  expecting  the  army.  I  haven't  descrip- 
tive powers  adequate  for  this. 

"Like  everybody  else  in  the  country,  es- 
pecially those  living  on  or  near  the  public 
roads,  we  had  been  hiding  things  for  several 
days?  Some  things  we  buried,  but  most  that 
we  tried  to  conceal  was  taken  into  the  woods 
and  swamps  by  father;  and  as  we  felt  sure 
the  soldiers  would,  in  one  way  or  another, 
get  from  the  negroes  on  the  place  all  they 
knew  about  such  matters,  we  did  the  hiding 
at  night  and  by  ourselves.  I  often  think  of 
our  dear  old  father  bending  under  the  weight 
of  trunks  and  boxes  that  he  could  scarcely 
lift,  and  going  off  in  the  dark  with  them. 
Of  course  all  this  made  us  nervous  and  kept 
us  so  disturbed  we  couldn't  sleep,  although 
we  were  often  so  tired  we  could  hardly  walk. 
We  heard  that  the  army  was  burning  all  the 
houses  they  passed,  so  we  considered  nothing 
would  be  safe  in  the  house.  When  we 
learned  that  the  army  was  near,  we  each  put 
on  two  or  three  dresses  to  save  them.   I  think 


158 WAR   STORIES 

it  was  the  6th  of  December  (1864)  that  the 
army  reached  our  place.  Father  thought 
they  would  be  marching  along  the  road  for 
a  half  day  perhaps,  and  as  we  had  been  hear- 
ing that  the  soldiers  were  torturing  old  men 
in  all  sorts  of  ways  to  make  them  tell  where 
their  money  and  valuables  were  hidden,  we 
concluded  it  was  best  for  him  to  go  into  the 
swamp  until  the  army  had  passed.  His  ab- 
sence added,  of  course,  to  our  distress. 

"Four  cavalrymen  came  first.  They  rode 
through  the  front  gate  right  up  to  the  ve- 
randa. At  the  sight  of  their  blue  clothes 
I  was  terribly  wrought  up  and  frightened. 
They  jumped  off  their  horses  and  demanded 
money  and  firearms.  They  went  into  the 
house  and  through  all  the  rooms,  looking 
into  closets,  bureau  drawers,  and  trunks.  I 
had  forgotten  in  my  excitement  to  take  off 
a  ring  I  was  wearing,  and  one  of  the  men 
asked  me  to  give  it  to  him.  I  didn't  do  so, 
but  he  made  no  attempt  to  take  it. 

"About  two  hours  later  the  infantry  seem 
to  have  arrived,  and  they  swarmed  through 
the  yard  and  the  house,  shooting  turkeys, 
chickens,  and  pigs.  Several  of  them  put  a 
rope  around  our  dog's  neck  and  swung  him 
up.    He  was  soon  dead.    We  wondered  why 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN         159 


they  did  not  shoot  him  as  they  were  shooting 
everything  else.  Mother  spoke  to  one  man 
who  was  carrying  off  an  armful  of  our 
clothes,  asking  what  he  wanted  with  women's 
clothes.  He  replied  'For  my  wench,'  and 
went  on  with  them.  They  found  out  we  had 
some  blackberry  wine  buried,  and  threatened 
to  set  fire  to  the  house  if  mother  refused  to 
tell  them  where  it  was.  She  told  them  where 
it  was.  There  were  a  few  who  acted  very 
gentlemanly  and  seemed  ashamed  of  the  way 
the  men  generally  were  acting.  They  told 
us  to  apply  for  a  guard,  but  we  had  no  one 
to  send  and  we  were  afraid  to  venture  out 
on  the  road  among  the  soldiers.  Several 
were  chasing  a  pig  and  shooting  at  it,  and 
mother  ran  out  and  got  between  them  and  the 
pig,  and  one  of  the  men  aimed  his  gun  at  her, 
but  the  cap  popped.  She  ran  back  into  the 
house.  Mother  said  something  about  their 
taking  all  the  peas,  and  a  soldier  handed  her 
a  twenty-dollar  Confederate  bill  saying, 
'Take  this  and  buy  some.' 

"The  second  day  they  found  father,  and 
made  him  come  with  them  to  the  house. 
Two  parties  of  soldiers  came  on  him  about 
the  same  time.  He  was  on  the  other  side 
of  a  lagoon  from  them,  and  while  he  was 


160 WAR  STORIES  

going  round  it  to  come  to  them,  as  he  was 
ordered  to  do,  the  men  got  to  quarreling 
about  who  captured  him;  other  soldiers 
came  up  and  passing  through  the  crowd,  he 
got  away.  Several  hailed  him  as  he  came 
along  to  the  house,  saying,  'They  got  you, 
eh  ?'  He  simply  replied  yes,  and  passed  on. 

"The  soldiers  killed,  it  seems  to  me,  over 
a  hundred  cattle  in  our  horse  lot.  They 
made  a  butcher's  pen  of  it.  They  found  in 
the  swamp,  where  we  had  hidden  them,  our 
family  horses,  'Blazeface,'  'Ransom,'  and 
dear  old  'Larry,'  and  carried  them  off,  also 
every  vehicle  except  the  big  wagon,  the 
wheels  of  which  father  had  rolled  into  the 
woods. 

"All  the  cows  and  yearlings  about  the 
place  were  killed,  as  well  as  those  in  the 
pasture  and  the  woods;  father  said  he  had 
in  all  about  a  hundred. 

"There  wasn't  a  thing  left  cooked  or  un- 
cooked that  we  could  eat,  and  in  fact  no 
pot  or  vessel  in  which  anything  could  be 
cooked.  The  second  day  a  soldier  asked  us 
what  we  had  to  eat.  We  told  him  parched 
corn,  which  we  had  raked  up  where  the  cav- 
alry horses  had  been  fed.  He  went  off  and 
brought  us  some  army  crackers  in  a  quilt. 


FOR   THE  CHILDREN         161 


"Oh,  it  was  dreadful  to  see  everything 
that  our  dear  old  parents  had  accumulated 
in  a  lifetime  swept  away  in  a  day!  But  as 
I  look  back  at  it  all,  I  am  filled  with  thank- 
fulness that  not  a  soldier  offered  any  violence 
to  us  or  even  used  insulting  language.  But 
the  dread  of  facing  alone  a  lot  of  strange 
soldiers  was  terrible.  I  don't  know  how  we 
stood  it." 


CHAPTER  XI 

PRISONERS  AT  S HERMANNS  HEADQUARTERS 

The  following  unique  incident  will,  I'm 
sure,  prove  interesting  to  many  of  my 
readers,  though  it  is  given  chiefly  for  the 
benefit  of  my  own  children.  Before  they 
were  old  enough  to  appreciate  fully  the  in- 
herent gentleness,  sweet  disposition,  and 
rare  good  judgment  of  the  devoted  wife 
and  mother  from  whom  we  often  heard  it, 
her  lips  were  forever  closed.  But  in  the 
novel  and  trying  position  which  the  incident 
describes,  they  will  see  these  qualities  strik- 
ingly displayed,  and  will  hold  the  story  as 
a  tribute  to  her  memory. 

When  Sherman's  army  reached  the  vicin- 
ity of  Savannah  the  cavalry  captured,  near 
the  Ogeechee  River  bridge,  the  last  outgoing 
train  on  what  was  then  called  the  Atlantic 
and  Gulf  Railroad.  On  this  train  as  passen- 
gers were  Mr.  R.  R.  Cuyler,  the  aged  presi- 
dent of  the  Central  Railroad  and  two  young 
162 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         163 

ladies,  Miss  Guyton  and  Miss  Cotton,  who 
had  "refugeed"  from  Guyton  on  the  Central 
Railroad  to  Savannah,  and  were  now  again 
"refugeeing"  to  friends  and  relatives  in 
Thomasville  and  Americus,  determined  to 
keep  out  of  Sherman's  way.  But  behold! 
here  they  were  made  prisoners  by  a  band  of 
his  cavalry.  The  coaches  were  at  once  set 
on  fire.  While  they  were  burning,  the  ladies 
noticed  another  body  of  cavalry  coming  at 
a  gallop  and,  thinking  they  were  Confed- 
erates coming  to  their  rescue,  they  clapped 
their  hands  with  joy.  But  they  were  mis- 
taken. Their  supposed  rescuers  proved  to 
be  a  company  of  Federals.  Their  captors 
offered  no  indignities,  not  even  requiring 
President  Cuyler  to  give  up  his  watch. 

Soon  an  army  ambulance  drove  up,  and 
Mr.  Cuyler  and  the  ladies  were  told  to  get 
into  it  to  be  taken  to  General  Sherman's 
headquarters.  Luckily  for  them  they  found 
Sherman  occupying  as  his  headquarters  the 
residence  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  King,  who  had 
taught  school  in  Savannah  at  one  time  and 
one  of  the  young  ladies  had  been  his  pupil. 

He  was  at  home,  though  his  family  had 
"refugeed." 

The    feeling   of   relief   to   the   ladies   on 


i64 WAR  STORIES 

meeting  Mr.  King  can  be  readily  imagined. 
They  were  at  once  notified,  however,  by  a 
member  of  Sherman's  staff  that  they  would 
be  held  as  prisoners  for  several  days,  at 
least,  and  Mr  King  would  arrange  for  their 
accommodation.  Nothing  could  be  done  but 
"accept  the  situation,"  and  they  resolved  to 
do  so  with  as  good  grace  as  possible. 

When  meal  time  arrived  the  ladies  were 
notified  that  their  meals  would  be  sent  to 
their  room,  if  they  preferred,  but  that  Gen- 
eral Sherman  would  be  glad  to  have  them 
occupy  seats  at  his  military  family  table. 
Knowing  it  would  give  less  trouble  to  adopt 
the  latter  course,  they  did  so. 

Now  it  was  Sherman  who,  on  expelling 
the  people  from  Atlanta,  had  written  the 
memorable  words,  "The  women  and  chil- 
dren must  be  made  to  feel  the  hardships  of 
war  as  well  as  the  men  in  the  army;"  and  his 
soldiers  in  their  march  through  Georgia  and 
South  Carolina  were  allowed  to  illustrate  the 
meaning  of  his  words  by  pillaging  private 
residences  and  carrying  off  whatever  suited 
their  needs  or  fancy;  but  on  this  occasion 
he  acted  the  gentleman,  and  when  the  ladies 
entered  the  dining-room  he  courteously  asked 
that  one  of  them  take  the  head  of  the  table. 


FOR  THE  CHILDREN         165 

Willing  to  "promote  the  agreeable,"  even 
as  a  prisoner  in  the  enemy's  hands,  Miss 
Guyton,  the  elder  of  the  ladies,  with  her  old 
teacher  on  one  side  and  her  "sister  in  af- 
fliction" on  the  other,  occupied  the  seat  at 
the  head  of  the  table,  and  for  a  week  "poured 
coffee"  for  Sherman  and  his  staff. 

It  was  often  the  case  that  the  officers  dis- 
cussed at  the  table  the  progress  of  the  siege 
of  Savannah  and  the  preparations  for  the 
capture  of  Fort  McAllister.  On  the  even- 
ing before  the  assault  was  made  on  the  fort, 
Sherman  invited  General  Hazen  to  take  sup- 
per with  him  to  discuss  the  matter.  In  an- 
swer to  Sherman's  question,  "Are  you  quite 
sure,  General,  that  you  are  ready?"  Hazen 
replied,  "Our  long  range  guns  are  all  in 
position  and  by  nine  o'clock  the  fort  will  be 
yours." 

The  fort  was  built  to  meet  an  attack  or 
approach  from  the  sea,  and  its  heavy  guns 
could  not  be  shifted  to  respond  to  this  bom- 
bardment from  the  rear.  So  it  proved  as 
General  Hazen  predicted.  After  a  few  well 
directed  shots  it  surrendered. 

"But  imagine  my  feelings,"  I  often  heard 
one  of  these  lady  Confederate  prisoners  say, 
"as  we  sat  at  our  window  that  night  and 


166 WAR  STORIES 

looked  towards  the  fort!  How  I  wished  for 
wings  that  I  might  fly  over  to  it  and  tell  our 
boys  what  was  coming." 

As  soon  as  the  fort  was  captured  the  pris- 
oners at  headquarters  were  told  they  would 
be  sent  anywhere,  within  forty  miles,  that 
they  wished  to  go.  The  next  morning  they 
left  in  an  ambulance  for  Guyton,  about  thirty- 
five  miles  across  the  country,  and  arrived 
that  afternoon  without  further  incident  of  in- 
terest. 

The  young  lady  who  poured  the  coffee 
for  Sherman,  a  prisoner  at  his  headquarters 
in  Mr.  King's  home  on  the  Ogeechee,  after- 
ward became  my  wife,  the  mother  of  my  chil- 
dren, Guyton  M.,  Gordon  B.,  and  Hattie 
Guyton  (Mrs.  H.  W.  Dent).  It  was  from 
her  own  lips  I  learned  this  unique  and  inter- 
esting story. 


CHAPTER  XII 

CONDENSED  CIVIL  WAR  HISTORY 

During  the  four  years  of  the  Civil  War 
there  were  seven  Federal  campaigns  or  ad- 
vances against  Richmond,  the  Confederate 
capital,  under  seven  successive  commanders, 
as  follows : 

i — McDowell;  defeated  by  Beauregard 
and  Johnston  at  Bull  Run,  July  21,  1861. 

2 — McClellan;  defeated  by  Lee  in  Seven 
Days'  Battles  around  Richmond,  June  26- 
July  2,  1862. 

3 — Pope;  defeated  by  Lee  in  Second  Bat- 
tle of  Manassas,  August  30,   1862. 

4 — Burnside;  defeated  by  Lee  at  Fred- 
ericksburg, December  13,  1862. 

5 — Hooker;  defeated  by  Lee  at  Chancel- 
lorsville,  May  2-3,   1863. 

6 — Meade;  flanked  by  Lee  at  the  Rapidan 
and  forced  back  to  Potomac,  October,  1863. 

7 — Grant;  repulsed  by  Lee  at  Wilderness, 
May  5-7,  1 864 ;  Spottsylvania,  May  1 2  ;  Cold 
167 


168  WAR  STORIES      

Harbor,  June  3;  Petersburg,  June  18;  The 
Crater,  July  30,  1864. 

In  August,  1864,  Grant  ordered  the  ex- 
change of  prisoners  to  be  stopped,  thus  de- 
priving the  Confederates  of  fifty  thousand 
soldiers  and  forcing  them  to  feed  and  guard 
an  equal  number  of  Federal  prisoners.  Dur- 
ing the  winter  of  1864-65  he  continued  to 
extend  his  lines  around  Richmond,  and  in 
April,  1865,  forced  Lee  to  abandon  the  city. 


